I loved him.
George
He came to my door,kiss me and said,
"lets have one more"
I let him inside
and then I cried.
He just had died.
I asked him to stay; he nodded and then wasn't there.
So I looked around and I noticed his voice in the air.
I sit on the floor.
He was still dead.
I wait once more.
I took a toke.
This was some joke.
He was dead folk.
He sang a song of My Sweet Lord and played the sitar.
I noticed the tears flowing gently from his guitar.
We talked until two
It was my dream
The time sure flew
I loved him so
I didn't know
He had to go.
It was so good Norwegian Wood.
Kathy Lockhart
11/16/06
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
Read 686 times
Written on 2006-11-16 at 17:07
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