Followers

Monday, 2 September 2024

A Fast To Last Of Our Past

 

It is a fast you going slow,

I am now dull with a glow

Of emanating this waiting –

A bitter-pill that’s sedating.

 

I am taking your medication

That are fond memories taken

From not yet happening again

As you refrain as I was insane.

 

I have schizo-affective-disorder

With bipolar and I’m depressed,

I lapse any such sense of order

But you as you are so the best.

 

You are so better than the rest

As you got well with a digest

Of me a tasty taste being peachy

That is palatable being greedy.

 

You lapped me up with a need

Of so satisfying a greed of feed

Which I did heed with my seed

Of planting our panting a creed.

 

We both believed in Christianity

Which from a madness insanity

Of hypocrisy as I was so a thief

Transgressing ill against a belief.

 

I so stole your heart and it was mine,

You didn’t mind and thought it fine,

But I was so crazily out of my mind

And did not respect it being sublime.

 

Copyright Andrew Stevenson 02/09/2024

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

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