Dear Autumn Christine
I remember when I saw you standing alone and I went to you.
I told you. You are so damn beautiful. Please talk to me.
You laughed at my words and you asked me. Are you using trickery dear Johnnie?
I don’t feel beautiful.
I whispered. Dear Autumn Christine. You have laughter and the eyes of a angel.
You made me wish to know you,
for us to dance and talk.
I want some gin and juice, slow dances and long kisses.
I want hot coffee and to see you at six am,
without make-up and with real face.
Your eyes goes serious and you asked.
No-one know what I saw and done.
I’m like leftover wine,
bitter and accepting alone.
Dear Autumn Christine. You are so damn beautiful to me and
all of us carry scars and regret.
I see the sadness in your eyes and…
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