Another round for loves lost
And loves never won. I'll drink to that - and only that.
To happiness drawn from all those unspoken truths.
To the gleeful reflection on might-haves and maybes
and the loneliness and heartache of the has-beens and never-weres.
The highs and lows of my imaginings
erode not at the liver, but the soul -
still, they could just forge anew
that lonely shoal.
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