What A Difference

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  • Loss

    What A Difference

    A year ago you slipped into something nice for me
    We celebrated thirty years
    What a difference the years make
    I slipped a stone upon your finger
    For thirty minutes we were on fire again
    What a difference the years make
    Afterwards we slipped into the past
    Before three children and a mortgage
    What a difference the years make
    Then you slipped away from me
    But I still come to celebrate
    What a difference a year makes

    I placed a stone upon your head
    And cried for thirty minutes
    For three decades laying in the park
    The brave face of reality now slips toward you

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    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    anthonyjames’s Poems (6)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Thriller Is Gone 0
    The Day of Trouble 1
    What A Difference 0
    I Did It Just For You 0
    Wilber's Friends 0
    The Pink Lady Bar and Grill 0