Rhythmic and Metric

The Face Now Forgotten

I can’t recall your face,
ashamed therefore I am;
In this odd worldly race,
have proved to be a sham.

I mind the days we swam,
the nights we confabbed too;
But face recalled not, damn!
Who could state what to do?

Was all caused by your coup,
Or downfall mine that day?
I did count twelve to two;
After you’d won the play.

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My ire was soon to slay
the joy I had till then;
A warm day came in May,
I had no paper, pen.

My thoughts departed when
I had no place to sleep;
To lands forlorn at ten
my mind would only leap.

Worries have made me weak,
but I wonder how you fare.
In the skies you pass each week;
Your grave here while I stare.

Dear, your face is forgotten;
Remains what you’d begotten.

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