don't miss him anymore. sad like a Lenin's bust
my hero of yesterday is buried under dust
he looks at me from portraits I have made
the eyes of' dog - forgotten, and thus betrayed
to be not loved hurts bad enough,
worse is the sense of guilt for falling out of love
But Lord bless me, it is so damn unfair
that while I suffer so much for him,
he doesn't even seem to care.
