Nobody told me that I would lose my pacifier
and nobody told me that I would lose my toy car

I lost my place in line and lost my seat
I lost my papers and lost my ticket

Nobody told me that I would lose my religion
and nobody told me that I would lose my luggage

I lost my way home and lost my puzzle piece
I lost my voice and lost my mix tape

Nobody told me that I would lose my virginity
and nobody told me that I would lose my job

I lost my dog and I lost my cat
I lost my grandmother and I lost my grandfather

Nobody told me that I would lose my apartment
and nobody told me I would lose my gift

I lost my check and lost my fluid
I lost my socks and lost my way

Nobody told me that I would lose my spot reading
and nobody told that I would lose my line drawing

I lost my father and I lost my direction
I lost my thread and lost my cookies

Nobody told me that I would lose my balance
and nobody told me that I would lose my self

I lost my fear and lost my security
I lost my pride and lost my glue

Nobody told me that I would lose my memory
and nobody told me that I would lose my dream

I lost my competition and lost my judgment
I lost my entry and lost my degree

Nobody told me that I would lose my fight
and nobody told me that I would lose my teeth

I lost my invitation and lost my sensation
I lost my position and lost my inspiration

Nobody told me that I would lose my eyesight
and nobody told me that I would lose my hearing

I lost my hope and lost my tears
I lost my drive and lost my time


Nobody told me that I would lose you
and when I lost you,
I lost my heart.



© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.01.07.13:00:03@550MadisonNYC