Wayne Brewer

“Love, he has abandoned me,
do with me as you will.
Love, he left - unceremoniously,
why must I love him still?

The best of me I gave to him -
the years, the days, the hours.
Precious little, in turn he'd given,
like dew to a wilting flower.

Love, he sheared away tenderly,
my beauty, my strength, my mind,
the gifts that were bestowed to me -
were swallowed in his pride.

Love, has he forgotten me?
Please tell me what you've heard,
I guard his memory jealously -
with him I'd place my worth.”
― Lang Leav, Memories