My Choice
My choice,
not really,
Helpless to resist what my heart compels me to do.
Why else would I welcome,
the hurt of losing you.
Only by knowing you are there after,
sustaining our connection making it easier to bare.
Still spirits mourn,
never understanding why more time isn't granted to us,
when allowed such a short time here.
Copyright © Randolph Byrd | Year Posted 2016
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