The water is no longer cool.
It's not cool like a midnight's pool.
It's wild like a beach's wave.
Only if you could feel her rave.
Her horizon has disappeared.
Being alone is what she always feared.
Eventually, the horizon would have to go away.
He said it would be back someday.
The water's tides are up and down.
It roars and crashes with mournful sounds.
Drenching the salty ocean, where she sleeps, with her tears.
It felt like its been years.
The horizon said it would be back soon.
So the water sits back and waits staring at the moon.
YOU ARE READING
El Libro de Poemas
Poetryi just put al the poems i posted on here into one book...so here ya go....
