With your innocence in my teardrops,
With your isolation in our shattered dreams,
With my vermilion cheeks of horror
My morning pain opens.

Covered in the colours of a dawn morning
Why was this reddened pain brought upon us?

Your broken strings are never to laugh again,
Your soul harmonies will not return to joy,
With sorrows deepening thirst unquenchable
Your calm carefree voice sweetly returns.

Togetherness caresses with each small sip
Rekindling me again and again with your love.



David Scanlon – England – (1963 - )

Scanlon. D (2018) Poetry for Business : Continuing Conversations. The Foolish Poet Press, Wilmslow, England. WHY?. Page Number 46.

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