Love's Dearth

Two  gins
And  I renounce the world;
The  dedication in the flyleaf
Of my  first book. Such
Seeps deep
Into bone - being
Alone  leaves its own
Peculiar scars,
Ones  you can never blot
Completely from memory   -
The  streets
The  faces
The  looks, the bleak time in
Passing, hooks that
Gouge.   And there are
Hard  winters yet to come -
Bet  on it -
So don't lay your cudgels down.
Laugh  down  the barrel of the gun,
Sing as you see the sun,
Find your  state of grace, be
Still young, evergreen
And  glad - you're too young
To  pine for what you never had.
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