....
A blaze took the house,
& there sits a man
With a burnt journal,
One sided talks..,
Beautiful, curling wisps of smoke
Her shape is a ghost behind..
for a moment
and it is empty...
blinding me to everything.
A wasted dream.
...
YOU ARE READING
Me her ...tears/love?
PoetryDear reader Ever wondered what Love really meant... well the following poems are written for her by a stranger(me). Some unheard words, some left unspoken, some were left in me by her. It ain't about a broken heart instead it's about the word 'Love'...
