The Ex; by him

 After a cold Argument

​ 

I can’t bear the deed of you,

Drifting away in the cold wind,

When little heat flare out from my speech.

It prickles my heart,

N mind for you to dance away,

To a beat so near.

Forgive if I’ve hurt,

Pardon if I’ve left,

Traces of discord in the harmony of your plans.

                              2013

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