wild flower

spring has sprung and still no bells have rung. a sharp nagging ache next to my left lung is all that is left to remind me of the heart i thought i won. but memories of such as those prove nothing but pain, for she was never worthy of love, just another harlot in the streets of the world. everything is so green beneath a grey sky and i wonder why i ever loved the love that made me wanna die. eric w. desselle