Forgotten Yard
I forgot the grapes on your vine,
i am not going back to the old yard,
acres of trees.
You were my suitor,
reaching you,
you smelled as cuter.
Reaching you,
the thorns pinned me down.
Pulped and beaten,
i thought we are gonna be a wine,
in the silvery night.
I thought you gonna row in boat of mine,
none worked.
Nevertheless we knew,
We were never sold,
for a same price.
Copyright © Bob Kasiita | Year Posted 2021
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