Lost In October

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Sober is and does as sober.
I remember last October,
When turned red the leaves,
And such a fire was shown in trees.
It was a time for autumn and loves lost.
For such things beyond cost.
There was a morning I grew weary,
And not long after then was teary.
That love lost was my mistake.
I could not prevent, her heart did break.
The bottom of that bottle,
Held not the hope I’d wished to coddle.
Now one year later, six months dry,
There are sometimes that I still cry.
Sober is as sober does.
That I’ll remain because,
That lost love did yield some learning,
And that next one I find, yearning,
Or the next one that I lose,
Some foolish bottle, for me won’t choose.

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