A haunting Memory

 

I fell in love with the most elegant lady

A friend I refused to friend

Because I loved her before I;

said so or Felt so

We were so very much in love

Then one day she went away

and I thought I'd die.

Her memory might be the very last thing Witnessing my passing on

I keep worrying of her like my life depends on it

And it’s so sad I can’t control this urge

I’m resisting visiting her

Despite unquenchable urge to do so

I worry, in which light she would receive me

Or if she do receive me at all

And nobody hits on her

To remind her of  me

I wish I loved her

Body , Face

Or something else on her

But I love her regardless!