Pour Bandit, Toujours

Have you ever tasted love?
The real kind of love?
Pure like the snow on first winter’s day?
The kind that makes you want to stay?

What happens when it is gone?
Like when music ends a song?
Like a road that twists and bends.
Everything eventually ends.

Oh you little furball.
How you made my heart fall.
You gave me your love, your all.
And flew away with a piece of my soul.

Since that day I’ve been searching.
For meaning to stop this hurting.
It isn’t stopping, it just grows.
What I should let go, I hold onto the most.

8.16.2017

~ JW

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