My eyes were brimmed with fresh tears
My back pressed against the cold stone wall,
It feels as if it has been years.
Years since I last heard your voice...
Fate is funny,
It seems as if you weren't given a choice.
A choice to live on...
The countless flowers wilt with depression beside me
And I pick one up with gentle fingers.
The petals tilt their faces down and dive, drifting slowly in fall
Just as my tears do
And I can't help myself, I call
I call out to you
Praying you would... Could... hear...
But my voice does not reach your ears
So I sit,
My back against the cold stone wall,
With new tears brimming in my eyes
With memories rushing past then fading
Fading like the gentle pink in the petals of the flowers I hold
Rushing past like the years that slipped by...
JE LEEST
My Mind; The Broken
PoëzieA book of poetry I have written. Most have come from assignments in high school but all are from the heart.
