Lost

I lost my morning I can’t get it back
And everything that I will not achieve
Is added to what I already lack
For what he takes from me I can’t receive
Demanding he is man of higher birth
I’m no-one and we both know that means
If money talks then this man shouts his worth
Why should he care that I have mortgaged dreams
And so I architect another’s life
My drafts are scattered blowing in the wind
A perfect man at home with perfect wife
Angelic but we both know he has sinned
His freedom bought and paid for but the cost
His eyes have shown me all that he has lost

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Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

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