Geography

Our group came, saw our friendship in its prime

We passed July in shambles, through the state

All that geography conflicts with time

The slumber of my revolt cannot wait

You left before I found the chance to ask

Mere chunks of land are acres, miles, long

I’d hate to turn a chance into a task

I’ve got the blues, you knew it all along

I celebrated Sorrow while I dined

These tablemates are not among her friends

Hmmm, nine weeks trickle down my fast-paced mind

She laughs; a mental trinket’s what she lends

A temporary loss should make me pout

Just ask me how happiness came about.

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