Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to...
Unfinished
Why night after night do I attempt this poem
I was in love left with the need to express
The moment, the feelings within that cyclone
Of loving him then and now
He is a jazz man who wrapped his
Being around me and consumed
Who and what I was at that time
That place for which I still long
Why night after night do I attempt this poem
Loving a Jazz Man, a poem with a beginning
But, will never have an end
Unable to bring back feelings of contentment
Warm kisses that ran through my body
Love making taking my breath away
I cannot bring back those days
Nor can I complete this poem
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