They come without warning…every day
As memories prick the shell of my skin
My thoughts led forlornly ever astray
Forever sad sojourn back where I’ve been
An old song, a movie…perchance provocateur
Autumn’s golden sun, long shadows so cast
Youth seen through lens of an aged aperture
Unending allure of dreams of the past
Alone in my room I stand surrounded
The paltry treasures of one life to see
Value sole mine yet by ghosts I’m bounded
Eyes drip freely both from room…and from me
If I may, a question…before I die
“Am I less of a man…because I cry?”
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