You are so far down.
The rose falls upon you, yet
you are so far down.
No more discussions
about what you did last week.
No more of your voice.
Now dead and buried.
A pang of regret grips me;
I missed seeing you.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
You are so far down.
The rose falls upon you, yet
you are so far down.
No more discussions
about what you did last week.
No more of your voice.
Now dead and buried.
A pang of regret grips me;
I missed seeing you.