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Click hereWe'll never share my moon - if you should look
you wouldn't think it worth your time. Its pale
dim disc declined each time that you forsook
its feeble shine until its light must fail
those basic things I'm sure I'll never find
but just in books, in poetry, in song,
in yellow photographs or in a kind
but fleeting visage fading in the throng
of harsher images that make each hour,
of bitter pictures that I can't escape -
life stays behind my eyes where it will lour
amorphously until it takes on shape
at some too careless word, too mocking smile,
your ghost upon my shoulder all the while.