Bittersweet. As if it were yesterday.
Feeling blue mixed with an orange radiant hue.
Who would've knew even when I saw the best in me, our home would be the recipe for all the words expressed with sorrow?
Your cries with no goodbyes, we're on our own we don't lock eyes, but it was me with a disguise I celebrate our soon demise.
I wonder if they know, I ponder where they go.
When I recite, my pain may show, I spill my truth they cheer, but, YO...I'm sad!  
The thoughts of what we should've had, I close my eyes and dream in that. 
Although these folks see nothing wrong, we celebrate a love that’s gone.
At least my mates could hear me. 
At least my mates could see me. 
Bittersweet. Like the blue, I wrote for weeks. 
Like the poetry, I speak. 
Like the pictured tongue and cheek. 
Like you missed my graduation and I sow just what I reaped.

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2023