My High

MY HIGH The only high I needed,  was another glass of wine, to hear you -- say Hi, another piece of you,  though I know it isn't mine, but it gets me by. The only high I needed  was to look into your eyes, I cherish the pain, live for the pain. My pain. The best that I could hope for  was to hear your voice again, to hear you -- say Hi, another piece of you,  I still need it now and then, to help me get by, The only high I needed  was to hear your voice again, The high of your Hi. High of your Hi. My high. © ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet