Its Only Love, Pt II

An old earring
lays abandoned
and I refuse to pick it up

No longer jumping
nor spirited
with forgotten replies

If you have crashed
braking hard
“we’re free to fly
the crimson skies”

Closed arms
hands released
Love poured
dribbled onto the floor

Cynical about water
thirsty, and I’m alone and
its only love
at its worst or best

Published by Adam F.C. Fletcher

I'm a speaker and writer who researches, writes and shares about youth, education, and history. Learn more about me at

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