MORGAN JONES

“Don’t leave dreary me here alone on the edge of waters so deep,” I say.
You turn away without a word back.
You smile and you laugh, and care little of my
forlorn sigh as I watch you go on by.
You let him take you away,
you go without regret,
you leave without a sadness in your eyes.
Oh friend of mine, I wish you did not leave.
Why him, not me?
Why sit on the wood planks that poke and prod under your weight?
Why not lay by my side under willow trees,
or whisper with me under the stars at night.
Why go to the waters
where wiggling creatures will wait?
“Oh, goodbye, goodbye. I will wait for you my friend,”
I call to the smiling shore with a smile so grand,
though all you see is the boy in the boat.
Oh, how sad it is that you will never know my friend,
the truth behind my dreary end.
Oh, when you return I will be gone,
a sore reminder of your selfish ride across the sea,
with a man at your side without me.

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