Winds might be leaving trails of your name.
the leaves seem to be whispering your name.
Yet I had forgotten your name, like the ink
fading away slowly from the books I lost.
Your name was my favorite word,
my destiny, my safe haven.
Sitting in the shores, I can still hear those words,
floating around in the waves of the river,
As I watch the sun going down leaving the sky,
in your favorite color.
Yet I had forgotten your name, withering away
like the flowers I lost.
Tippity tap the star, if you like the poem and Leave your suggestions too...
Copyright © 2019 Huesofwind
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews.
Cover by Masked_Plebian
Now scroll up/click to continue reading. ❤️
YOU ARE READING
Handwritten
PoetryBecause of YOU, In Gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring. I have forgotten your face. I no longer remember your hands. How did your lips feel on mine? ----PABLO NERUDA Poems from the depth of heart... Words straight out of...
