My comfort foods and I
Always have a grand old time. Poppy seeds and peanut butter
Fill my empty heart.
He may
Still be mine
But without being able
To hear his voice, To see him,
To talk to him all the time,
And to hug him when it is needed most.
I have almost nothing abscond. Tears have
Stung my lips,
Fell in deep abyss,
Touched the ground in helpless worries,
And left with sorrows sound.
To hear me now a pleading call,
A desperate allege,
As to which they now reside
To my comfort foods and I.
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