Bad Poetry Friday

Mistake (c. 1997?)

Wildflowers bring back

floral memories

of the mountains

when I was 16

and naive

oblivious to everyone but him

How sweet it was falling

like the morning rain

on the roof

that tingling sensation of love

too often we fall for things we can’t have

too often we need what we don’t get

but leaving is easy

the hardest part

is learning to forget

the smell

the taste

the feel

of love

the look

the sounds

of love

the want

the news

of love

guitars and slow songs

tug at my heart strings

like a movie

it was a dream come true

the bitterness of it all

tastes so sweet

How could I be so naive

to believe in love?

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