She was...is

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Broken hearted remembering someone who has died.

Submitted: March 12, 2010

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Submitted: March 12, 2010

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Left here she said don't go on with out me

she is imaginary lines in a book not written

a sound in the room unheard

the last leaf on the autumn tree

fossil foot prints of endagered flies

I crave her because she is a dying spirit

of youth, of yesterday of romance

of kissed lips through window panes

snow angels in old back yards

my torn up heart is her prison.

Will she ever go?


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