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Poetry: Change

by David Dale

BITTER LOVE

Gloomily sitting by my drink I see,

A once true love that used to be,

There she sits, so feminine so sweet,

Her knees so close, her dainty feet,

So sensuous, so poised she sits,

Her shoulders bare, her shapely hips,

A glance comes up, to me she sees,

Then glancing down rejecting me,

Across the bar, her lover new,

Swaggers proud, so grand a view,

Sitting down beside what once was mine,

Their drinks he gently places down,

A blood red drink, not blood but wine,

And how I wish she still was mine,

Such pretty smiles from she I see,

So gracious, so kind and so genteel,

Then comes a thought, so fast, so quick,

That most sweet things, I tend to sip,

Have the tendency, to make me sick.

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