I am in the forest
crying
watering the trees
with the memories you left me
crying
watering the trees
with the memories you left me
I had to pick up your things
collect your coins
collect your coins
rocks with gold veins
and put them in a box
paintings and drawings
thoughts you put on paper
I collect
What do I do with it all?
What do I do without you?
I am stuck
holding every box
I like these May poems quite a lot. They are moving.
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