After I left, on my first night
Prompted my journal, describe your now past life
Perhaps, things like:
The telephone boxes,
                    The theatre, the foxes,
                                            Ben, Battersea or the eye.
At worst, at best, simple a request
But against my behest,
I Immediately flustered
As only memory my mind mustered:
                  That feeling felt when I caught your eye
             Â
              And I just wasn’t ready to ask myself why
               Â
I wasn’t able to say        Â
                                                                      goodbye.
I guess what often said is true,
Like what last heard to me from you:
You run from things you cannot deny.
Rewrite.