Afterthought, by Mark Turbyfill

Afterthought

Sometimes you smile,
(Now that it is all over)
And drop me little thin, gray words,
Like the coins we give to the blind.
Oh, I am not blind!
And they are grayer to me than your
"Do not come anymore."
I dare not think that you care
How I cared then
Or now!
And yet you smile,
And drop your little words
While I
Hold out my hand.

poems.one - Mark Turbyfill