Incomplete

Dear Reader,

I apologise truly for the silence. Once again I find my thoughts reaching a dead end in the maze that’s my mind. So here is an incomplete poem which I don’t know how to end. 

I am leaves in autumn every time I see your face,

I’m still turning my demons into angels in lace

Or dust in a chalice.

I don’t know where I went wrong my love

Sometime between sixteen and twenty five

I lost my way, lost my drive.

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