Your words, written in my book years ago
Reading them now I can’t help the feeling
That we knew then what we now seem to know
All the more it helps me with my healing.

You’re fading with the passing of each day -
You promised me you would, and you were right.
A special memory we are today –
Cease has come to our pained, lingering fight.

And in my heart, the best of us remains
In hindsight we glow the brightest of all
A lesson from our past my soul retains
Sometimes in love, the best thing is to fall.

Nothing can taint us now, story in stone.
Our future’s apart, with joys unbeknown.

I write sonnets on sticky notes at work

While waiting for daily reports to load.

I’m just a lowly inventory clerk

Problems and discrepancies I decode.

We all have got lives outside of our jobs

Though some are unlucky and unemployed.

Outside wall street some of these folks form mobs

The image we’re force fed as kids: destroyed.

I silently revolt with my trite verse

Getting creative on company dimes.

The poetic form I like to rehearse

Searching for syllables, meter, and rhymes.

Still, a job is a job, and I’m lucky.

Doing nothing all day gets so yucky.