Dead leaves on the eve of fall,

wolves howl and the wind calls

of their forlorn love.

 

Separated by forgotten reasons,

both sit and watch the changing seasons

blurring around them.

 

Wishes granted, but none on time,

always stuck in a rhythm or a rhyme

of sorry, not yet.

 

Unsure of their love’s fate,

continuously forced to sit and wait

for answers that never seem to come.

 

Both unhappy, unfulfilled, aching,

for the only touch to mend their breaking

unstable, wanting hearts.

 

Someday soon, will answers arrive

so both no longer remain deprived

able to move forward

 

One step at a time…?

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