We reminisce about times we never had
In groomed backyards with shining skies
And romantic escapades filled with youthful ploys
Smiling faces fill these sentimental reveries
While alone we sit in old ripped jeans
And realize that these times we had
Were dreams and only dreams
Nothing more.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Hello esteemed reader

I am always looking to better my writing and thus urge anyone who reads this to let me know what they think about it



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Buttered Toast for Two


The mist is lighter now,
but still there is a heavy
heaviness feeling filling me inside,
like a lump in the throat or peanut butter
sandwich, I see;
Past, life, lives and coffeehouse musicians,
coffeehouse artists,
past and future and present,
I see what I want, what I have,
maybe what I will
I see you there, and I see my Father, my
Mother, her mother, and our friend-father
My Grandmother's
I see tea steaming alive in her living fuzzy
kitchen; books,
tables, and family love,
I want that English tea
and I want coffeehouse tea,
I want to sit with him and talk
and to remember Lionel's napkin

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