Xiao Ling
Xiao Ling,
This black, wet night, you, a sad song, to me, did sing,
as I spent a painful hour on the outside of your tears,
wiping, kissing them dry, and wondering why?, what fears?,
did bring to the surface, a multitude of tear drops to your face.
A multitude of memories?, your life's journey?, me?, my place
in the larger scheme of things?, what were your thoughts?,
what had life taken?, what from life?, had you not got?
What was it Xiao Ling?, that created tears of sadness to sing
of what ever it was, that this life, the moment, to you did not bring.
Holding tightly, dancing, kissing - passions unfulfilled do sting !
B. J. "A" 2
November 10th 2009
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