The floor was littered with unspoken promises
disguised as flattened cups that once held bad beer.
Even now did he feel the grief that came with the thought of never seeing her again.
Once they had been lovers but tonight they had been no more than guests
at yet another party he attended that year.
Hoping to be able to forget her.
Hoping to meet her again.
It was hope that made him drift like a leaf on the wind from venue to venue.
From woman to woman.
It was hope that caused his sleepless nights.
Nights he spent in the arms of what was now his imaginary lover.
He might have had so much but by now had lost so much
that nothing was left to him but hope.
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I just lost my part time job and am not making ends meet via entertainment because of covid, so a donation (click) is much appreciated:
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