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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Thursday, October 20, 2011

October Blue

Thinking of the friends I've lost
Warm mist hanging in the air
and wondering about the cost

Autumn wind
blows right through me
Was there one who
really knew me?

What happened?
What did I do?
October blue

Looking up at strange clouds floating
Wondering if it will rain
Feeling sorry for myself
when I think of us again

Have to laugh despite it all
You understood absurdity
Mirrors for each other, you
would not believe what you could see

Hard to find
someone like you
October blue

Red and yellow
leaves beneath my dirty shoes
Distant memories 
mixing with the autumn hues

Sometimes I wish 
that I fit in
when I think of 
you my friend

Even now
I still miss you
October blue.