Aftermaths
Morning came–
nobody greeted her,
nobody tell her things,
where she used to before.Evening came–
everybody was asleep,
but she remained awake,
because of the memories she thinks.'He looked so happy now' She murmured,
as she watch his picture on her phone,
maybe, he had no reason to stay at all–
that's why it's easy for him to let her go.
YOU ARE READING
Bed of Proses.
Poetryhis collection of non sense thoughts. all rights reserved © jhadconnor