To cremate your love
Long has it been,
Begin to deliver a verdict a long time coming: “Guilty. Guilty.”
I miss you baby girl.
Pete held the bundle of white cloth and in it, the rifle.
The party started out fine.
I met you way back when,
Thinking it was in ‘77,
Recalling your kisses so intense,
I thought I went to Heaven.
My eldest daughter lives in St. Mary’s Hospital psychiatric ward.
Partly to consummate our