Today, I saw your name again.
It reappeared, as if it had never left
And I suppose, in a way, it never did.

Occasionally, you resurface
From the recesses of my mind,
And I remember sounds
And smells I associated with you,
And usually I write
Another cheesy, self involved poem.
Though they're not nearly as rank
As the stuff I wrote for you.

From time to time, I stumble
Across something I wrote for you,
Though I've not seen any of your words
Since I threw your letters away.
And that was a while back.

I suppose I couldn't stand
That sickly smell after all.
One thing that has always puzzled me
Is why suddenly, when it's all over,
Sweetness turns sour, and we hate
Songs that used to make us glow.

If you had let me write to you,
I wonder what you would
Have done with my letters?
Probably the same as I did to yours
Only with far more justification.

But one thing I have discovered
Is that we can never throw out
Memories. So for those
That I gave to you, I apologise.

So the sound of your voice
Gently deceiving me
Will go with me to my grave.

Today, I saw your name again,
But it really didn't bother me.
Which is why I've written this poem.

01/03/2002

Posted on 01/03/2002
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince