Title: Old and alone
by Aimee | in writing, poetry
She's wrinkled, not wise,
Pain held behind tears in her eyes,
Lips pressed tight,
She re-lives the fight,
As she remembers.
He left, one night,
Mild in May,
Took flight, and left,
Took her soul away.
On her withering finger,
Shines a gold band,
A constant reminder
Of the love of her man.
The man who left,
She never knew why.
Lips pressed tight,
As she continues to cry.
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