If I could, I would
But I can't
You seem to live inside my head
You were planted like a seed
And I can't pull you from the
garden of my memories.
The roots have grown too deep
And I've seem to of grown too weak.
So now come back to me
in the form of reality.
© Copyright 2016 James Eastwood. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Short Story / Westerns
Poem / Other
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