When We Are Left Alone
it was in macau
when we were finally left on our own
waiting till three o'clock
with instruction to proceed
to gate 11
no one was there
except the two of us
waiting on cold seats
and i was figuring out
where to go
while you simply
hold my hand
lay your head
on my shoulder
and then
you start to whistle
a love song
it was a little dark when the
boat finally came
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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