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Best Loss Poems

Below are the all-time best Loss poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of loss poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Loss Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Loss poems are below this new poems list.

Loss of his dog by Rigoler, Maurice
STARS NEVER LOSS LIGHT by Devnath, BL
The seasons inure us to loss by Ronnow, Robert
Winter Time Loss by Woodman, Kayla
Loss of Identity by Twistedthought, that
Greatest Loss by Tesfaye, Haile
my loss by nwakanma, victor
MEMORY LOSS by Enriquez, Leon
The Pain of Loss by Rigoler, Maurice
The loss of Southern Sons - Execution by Eggins, Jayne

View all new Loss Poems

The Best Loss Poems

Details | Loss Poem | |

Belongings

Shadowed in the silent room, the daylight's nearly gone
Dusk climbs in through window glass, with one last ray of sun
I start the task, climb on a chair, reach up to shelves so high
to mother's boxes neatly stacked, and dust gets in my eyes

I take one down, to look inside and sit upon a chair
I find some musty linens, laces needing some repair
Discovering old photographs, the year was '42
Her face was smooth as porcelain, unblemished, young and new

Old documents and letters, a history unveiled
Her letters, torn and yellowed, such stories they would tell
The next box held small china cups, so lovingly embellished
And then I found a book of verse, inscribed with poems she relished

Some dresses stained and wrinkled, their fabric thin and tattered
Were once a thing of beauty, as if they really mattered
Her jewelry, gold and silver, some lovely rings and brooches
A warm sensation circles me, her presence now approaches

I sense a change come over me, and fleeting leave of gloom
The darkness of the evening lifts, as sunlight fills the room
She wraps her warmth around me, her fragrance in the air
My loneliness is free to go, I know that she is there

Among these things, I find the last, the smallest box of all
Inside it are the baby clothes, I wore when I was small
A letter there to tell me that she knows the tears I've cried
Her words of love that never died, they fill me up inside

These treasures speak her words to me, and now that I am grown
She wants to tell her story, those parts I've never known
I've heard her voice, while sitting here, among her china flowers
I"ve found such peace, she's next to me, to spend these quiet hours


____________________________________________________________

More great poems below...


Details | Loss Poem | |

MORNING OR MOURNING

Such precious gemstones Morning dew shines like diamonds God’s tears from heaven Written on 18th February – 2 days before my father died Posted 22nd February 2015

Details | Loss Poem | |

Grandpa

 


The old man sat with eyes closed, dozing in his chair
Until a little voice he heard say “Grandpa, are you there”.

He gazed upon a little boy while waking from his nap
Then reached down with a sweeping move and placed him in his lap

The child was carrying a book that he wanted him to see
He held it up and  asked him “Grandpa, will you read to me”?

The old man cleaned his glasses then opened up the book
And suddenly the two of them a wonderous journey took

They ventured lands so far away, sailed seas not sailed before
Met knights and kings and wizards on every distant shore.

Together they fought dragons, saved damsels in distress
Freeing lands of monsters and the treasures they possess

When the old man closed the cover to end their magic ride
He told the boy “We're much like books, what's important is inside”.

But one day when the boy arrived and rushed to Grandpas chair
Much to his disappointment, his Grandpa was not there

He ran to find his mother for surely she would know
Why the chair was empty, where did his Grandpa go

She sat him down and asked him if he remembered in each book
The adventures and the journeys that he and Grandpa took

He took you there to show you the things that you can find
The wonders that are yours to see if you open up your mind.

But he still walks beside you in the stories you have read
You're not left to go alone, he’s just gone on ahead

The child then went and chose a book and climbed up in the chair
And opening up the cover whispered “Grandpa, are you there”?

Details | Loss Poem | |

Double Phantasy

Mama, did you know the precious amethyst shadow hours
I spent beside you, cuddled cosy-close, nestled in blankets of light,
shawled in your red-gold hair? I kissed each tear you cried;
each one a starlight pearl forged from the depths
of your fragile soul. I rocked seashell-shut to each lullaby note
and silently watched as you rocked my cold, empty cradle.
Sometimes you sensed me coiled at your breast -
a small balled knot of grief. You felt my tiny fingers plucking at you
as tingling shivers. And sometimes I bounced sunshine-free
on your knee, a giggling orb of light.

Little one, once again I felt you here,
entombed in the womb of this eternal everywhere room,
your spirit sifting through my fingers like hourglass sand.
Pain has blanked my mind wraith-white, but I felt
your lips nip the warm rosebuds of my nipples
as I pressed a lullaby to the delicate shell of your ear
and brief blessed seconds spun out like years.
My sentient heart will always hold you, my grip will never slip
as my earthbound hands, human-warm, reach through time
and heather-shadowed ether to love and care for you.





*'phantasy' is a deliberate misspelling, an amalgamation of 'phantom' and 'fantasy'

Details | Loss Poem | |

My Heart Beats For You

Walking aimlessly through the woods
Searching for that spot we once stood
Pouring out my heart and my tears
Reliving memories of those special years

Red and orange and purple from green
Rich autumn colors, a sight to be seen
The winds of change quickly blowing in
With it a new chapter will soon begin

Not ready to give up, I can't let go
Where am I headed, where will I blow
Lost without you, what am I to do
Darling, my heart is still beating for you

More great poems below...


Details | Loss Poem | |

Obsession (by Calvin Klein)

undeniable as dawn and dusk upon the still horizon
as tulips reincarnate in bright hues on blue grass gardens
so is the scent that lingered in the folds of your leather coat
as it catches wind on someone else’s skin….so wrong….

familiar…just  like my breathing….obsession in the air
aching like a thorn in my heart it bleeds a refrain of pain
remembrance should be buried in the earth where you lay
yet it haunts me still and taunts my soul in turmoil (indelible)

like midnight slaw mangled in a bowl of noose and weeping
somewhere you slumber (buried asleep) as my throat chokes
I still miss your laughter when that cologne hit’s a June breeze
if I close my eyes I still see your crooked grin in mid day sun

as tangible as wisps of smoke my fingers reach your smile
I toss the solemn words “I miss you” on the lakeside silence
I will see you again….this I know….and the scent assails
always like footprints dried in concrete….forever with me

*R.I.P my friend…..

Inspired by Sir Brian’s contest “Indelible Impressions”

Details | Loss Poem | |

Screaming at the Sky


Screaming at the Sky
Mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky holding their heads helplessly as they cry pitiful tears for innocent, defenseless children slaughtered in fatal cross fires, deadly drug wars drive-by shootings, and cases of mistaken identity on blood-splattered streets, senseless endless violence; but who really gives a damn, only grief-stricken mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky.
(Form – Enjambment posted as Verse – 8 lines with 7 words in each line. The 1st line and the 8th line are the same) 10-21-2014

Details | Loss Poem | |

Tissue Box

like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come here
dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings

don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat

I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure

                but, this was my child who suffered loss
                impossible........I can't express it

protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine, 
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy with goals
beyond our reach...beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control

like visitors from outer space we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us,  and then they all go home

do we cry........?  Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we vow...to hold back all the tears for now


                for, this was my child who suffered loss
                impossible........I can't express it
      __________________________________________





4/12/13

Details | Loss Poem | |

What Only Angles Hear

Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.

She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.

She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.

Scars selfinflicted  are better than that 
dirty feeling.
As she lays a broken shell gazing  at the celling.

She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.

The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.

At times it gets to uncomfortable so in 
another direction we  steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles  hear.

Details | Loss Poem | |

INTERMINGLE

I wiped away a single tear That had fallen from my eye (You told me simply we were friends) You left me after only a year (But you conceal your aching heart) I often sit and ask myself why Looking back on our time together I remember those halcyon days (My love for you it never ends) I thought we’d be together forever (You told me simply we were friends) Now memories are a fading haze Your hair so dark with eyes of brown (Dreaming of you my heart ascends) So full energy with a sense of fun (Forbidden love keeps us apart) Always happy you were never down We’d go out together and have a run (You told me simply we were friends) You’d always reward me with a soppy kiss (But you conceal your aching heart) I’ll never forget the day you got knocked over Never a day passes when you I don’t miss How I loved my darling dog Rover 03~05~15 Do You Love me – Triolet ~09~26~14 How I miss you Rhyme - 09~22~14 Contest - Intermingled – Craig Cornish

Details | Loss Poem | |

Looking Down My Street - A Collaboration

Looking down my tree lined street the setting sun casts her glow upon the Chestnuts, Maples, and Oaks dressed in worn out yellow ribbons telling the story of friendship and loss strength and courage. How there was hope and there were dreams. That life wouldn't pull us apart. There was community and passion and smiles each time you went through that revolving door. We prayed, yes we prayed for us that we wouldn't lose you that we wouldn't be missing someone so true. I raise my head up to the skies washing away a lingering tearful cry and remember .... Your amiable soul, dynamic, invincible and unique Your stupendous dose of humor, indulging, infectious and unstoppable. Your enthusiasm to give, to share, and your boundless care Your friendship, a treasure trove of trust worth. Wherever you were, there was harmony, and a breath of fresh air You were a friend, who never postponed one minute of life You used every minute to fill ours with joy I raise my head high and remember i remember the moment my laughter died that moment when I asked why Why are the good, the chosen ones, to suffer for others 'evil Why do they go first, why do they die young Why are they now far, so far ? In that moment of helplessness and doubt In that moment when faith was provoked I cried like a child, I didn t need another hero, I just wanted my friend back I wanted him so bad to be near, to survive Once again I raised my head, I got lost in the sky, And I swear I saw him with these eyes And I swear, I heard him with these ears He said, 'Death is not for the living, I am so much alive ' Then, it was night ! I raised up my head, and a luminous star lit my once darkened sky with warm breezing light.

Details | Loss Poem | |

I Look To the Moon

I look to the Moon, hanging aloft
Among the clouds so milky soft.
How must it feel, so high above?
So chilled and bleak and void of love.

Collapsed and sunken are his eyes,
Dark and deep as the onyx skies.
As the Moon shies from the sun,       
I share no love with anyone.

The Moon is alone, without affection.
In its grim face is my reflection.
Inside my heart, the longing grows,
And rots my soul, a sickly rose.

While I look beyond this cage,
I clench my fists; they shake with rage.
I desperately stare above,
Wishing to fly, free as a dove;
For release from the troubled heart I claim,
To be finally rid of the madness and shame.
                                      
Although reprieve is found in song,
To no one does my soul belong.
In music, may the pleas be spoken,
But all in vain; the heart is broken.
                            
The Sphere returns, begins to sigh.
We are not so different, You and I.
So twisted and fractured is the White Stone.
We both have no one; We are both all alone.

Details | Loss Poem | |

Sweetest Love Note

One night a guy & a girl were
driving home from the movies. The
boy sensed there was
something wrong because of the painful
silence they shared between them
that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over
because she wanted to talk. She told him that her
feelings had changed & that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he
slowly reached into his pocket & passed her a folded note.
At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down
that very same street. He swerved
right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she
pulled it out & read it.
"Without your love, I would die."

Details | Loss Poem | |

YES, THERE'S A LOVE THAT LASTS

Yes, there is a love that last
It's all you say and more
But there's a counterfeit called lust
It looks the same till it's out the door
Both hold you when you're beautiful
Only love holds when you're a pain
Both are crazy about your body
Only love is crazy about your brain
Yes, there is a love that last
It's all you say and more
And when you're at your worst
Love offers peace instead of war!

Details | Loss Poem | |

The Game, Playing the Game

'I want you to use all your powers and your skills
I don’t want his mother to see him like this
Look, look how they massacred my boy'...
Don Corleone (Marlon Brando) in “The Godfather”
-------------------------------------------------------
Playing the game. It's a game isn't it?
Life is but a game, but a dream isn't it?

I drove home by that road many, many times,
that very same short-cut country road that you drove
that road where our lives crashed, exploded and shattered
shattered in jagged shards of Silver-Saturn pieces

(This is where you must have seen the swerving headlights
What were your thoughts? Were you worried? Were you alarmed?
This is the spot, oh God this is where, where it all hap...
What were your LAST thoughts? What were your last words
when that pick-up jumped, jumped and flew out of that ditch?
You always said "WHAT THE!"... Yeah, you must have said that)

Driving myself to madness playing the 'what if' game
What if you had driven just a little faster?
A little slower? Stopped to pick up something?
DIDN'T stop to pick up something? (Did-didn't-did...)
Stayed at work a minute longer, or left a minute early?
(What-if-what-if what-if-why-where-what-when)

Just what are the odds? Just what are the chances?
2:AM? Maybe one car, one car every 2 hours or so?
It was 'perfect' timing, a 'perfect' flash in time
(Perfect-imperfect-perfect-why-where-what-when)

I drove home by that same road many, many times,
that very same short-cut country road that you drove
that same short-cut road, that road you were driving
innocently, driving....just trying to get back home
 
Yes, playing the game. It's a game isn't it?
Life is but a game, but a dream isn't it?
ISN'T it.

7/1/2012

Details | Loss Poem | |

Forty Today

Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…

the orange tinged carnations 
were a perfect complement 
for the skies
and for you… 
orange and blue
always remind me of you

the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…

hardly believing
what I am looking at, 
that it’s been seven years

of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…

But there are days,
such as today
which make me 
confront that reality—

I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love

Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they 
make it so real for me?

I look around me
and look for that sign

Nope, not there…

I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared

I kiss the date that you were born

and walk away

my reflection on the car window
misty

One last look around,

and then I see it…

a cat, as we drive away…

Skies now streaked purple and pink


**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…


Details | Loss Poem | |

Thievery

                in locking away our heart....... 
                                  we become the thief of our own happiness


This poem is my reaction to Casarah's latest poem.

Details | Loss Poem | |

Will Shepard

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
His barn burned to the soil;
The flames licked at the Autumn sky,
The smoke as black as oil.
I dropped the torch onto the earth,
And felt the whole world turn,
I stood and watched Will Shepard’s barn,
I stood and watched it burn.

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
I set his horses free,
They galloped over grass and sand,
They galloped to the sea;
I dropped my whip onto the floor
And thoughts turned to my gun
I stood and watched Will Shepard’s herd,
I stood and watched them run.

The day Will Shepard shot my dog
I put him in the ground,
My bullets found his heart and brain,
He fell without a sound;
And as his lifeblood ebbed away
And light fled from his eyes,
I stood and watched Will Shepard leave,
I stood and watched him die.

And now I sit here in my cell
And through the bars I spy
The carpenter with wood and nails,
Who builds my gallows high;
My vengeance has been satisfied
As far as I can see,
For that old dog Will Shepard shot
Meant all the world to me.

Details | Loss Poem | |

Loneliness

Loneliness was losing you ten years ago
I now wake up each day your side empty
I miss the cuddles and early morning sex
the endless hours without your smile.

No-one to share special moments with.
At night once the door shuts others out and
the long hours creep by each one darker
It is now I again feel the isolation.

No-one to share a joke or smile with,
in others minds you are now forgotten 
yet for me it is still like yesterday. 
Endless hours stretching out, on and on.

No-one to hold me when I weep in despair
or to wipe away the tears and comfort me. 
I smile when people visit, offer some tea
but deep inside the tears never stop.

People tell me its time to forget,
well that would mean cutting out my heart.
For without you I am less than nothing
It is all the memories that comfort me.

The joyous times we together shared
and the life we lived together harmoniously.
My heart still belongs to you, none measure up
how could they? You and you alone are my soul.

So resigned I live with loneliness
fill my days with things to do.
Taking comfort in friends and family
Yet once the door closes loneliness sets in.

Written 11/19/2014

contest: Faces of Loneliness

Details | Loss Poem | |

Butterflies

They flutter and hover
And float on the breeze.
They shiver and shimmer
And weaken the knees.
Fickle and fragile,
They tickle and tease.
Fleeting and flimsy,
Deceptively free.  

These frivolous creatures, 
These knots of desire.
Once spindles of yearning, 
Now spools of barbed wire.
Once pulling like petals, 
Now pricking like briar.
Once soothing like honey,
Now burning like fire.

Violently thrashing,
It struggles to rise.
The truth comes up gasping
From whirlpools of lies.
Shed this charade 
And discard your disguise.
I know you enjoy
Drowning blind butterflies.

Details | Loss Poem | |

Trussed Duck Alouette

Another lame duck
That ran out of luck
Encountered financial loss
A failure at work
Now seen as a jerk
He happens to be the boss!

Employees revolt
His feathers will moult
His dignity has been plucked
He needs a new perk
Lost wife then his work
In more than one way he’s f***ed.

--------------------------------------------------
3rd September, 2014 
Collaboration ~ Paul Callus & Casarah Nance
Contest: A Lovely Alouette (revised)
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Placing: 5th

Details | Loss Poem | |

Soldier

I saw a burial with a bugler playing taps;
I turned to my father, “what happened?” I asked.
He clutched my hand and with a quiver in his voice,
he began to explain and his eyes became moist.

“My son,” he said, “this is rather difficult for me;
for an old veteran like myself this is tough to see.
In that coffin lies a genuine patriotic warrior,
an honest-to-God hero, an American soldier.

I appreciate that soldier and the service he gave,
and I honor his sacrifice as he’s laid in his grave.
He was honorable, selfless, courageous, and bold;
please remember him son, as you grow old.

The value of his service, I must explain,
if not remembered, will be lost in vain.
As a nation we’re nothing without soldiers like him;
and failing to remember would be a terrible sin.”

I listened in awe as my father spoke,
it seemed as if his heart were broke.
I suddenly remembered when he went to war,
and when he returned I thought nothing more.

I never asked why he walked with a limp,
and I didn’t care about why he was sick.
I was too busy enjoying the life that I had,
to realize that I had it because of dad.

I finally understood what my dad was about,
and it hurt so bad I cried out loud.
He sacrificed so much so I could be free,
and his battle scars were suffered for me.

It was my father’s spirit that spoke to me that day;
thank God I finally understood what he had to say.
I saluted his coffin as they laid him to rest,
and I thought about the medals pinned on his chest.

That I didn’t honor him sooner, I will always regret;
and I pledged that day to never again forget.
I’m proud that my dad was a patriotic warrior;
I’m honored to be the son of an American soldier. 

Details | Loss Poem | |

Nevermore Will Raven Return

 *Note:  A 60-year annual tradition that involved a mysterious visitor leaving three 
roses at the grave of writer Edgar Allan Poe on the anniversary of his birthday 
ended in January 2010.  Curators of the Poe House and Museum are at a loss to 
explain who left these gifts and why they stopped.  On many occasions people kept 
vigils  near Poe’s grave during this period that began in 1949, but no one ever saw 
someone leaving the roses. In the morning, however, they were always on his 
grave.  Poe is considered the father of the American short story and 
his poem The Raven is one of his best known works.



Once upon a midnight dreary, Poe heard a tapping at his window
     While grieving the loss of his young bride, a maiden “angels named Lenore,”
A radiant teen whose long, black hair in gentle breezes would billow,
     Tapping at the window ceased, but suddenly it was heard at his door

Upon opening it, a Raven flew in repeating, “Nevermore”
     At first he welcomed this odd visitor until Poe whispered, “Lenore”
When he heard his word echo, the strange Raven he began to abhor
     He asked if he’d see his bride again and the bird replied, “Nevermore”

Though Poe died in eighteen forty-nine, a mystery evolved much later
     A century after his death, his grave had an annual visitor
Roses were left on his birthday by someone whose love appeared greater
     Who had left these floral gifts forever stumped the Poe House curator

Perhaps the answer can only be explained by reincarnation
     Did the Raven embody the spirit of Poe’s beloved Lenore
If so, perhaps the Raven returned again in a life rotation
     In human form she visited to lay roses on the earthen floor

And upon her death in two-thousand nine, she took to the skies once more
     A Raven who now joins the flock circling above her late husband’s grave       \/
Could it be her spirit remains with Poe, as it did in life before                         \/ \/ \/
     Bringing him in the afterlife all the roses a poet could crave                     \/ \/ \/ \/

For those who consider this possibility totally absurd
Just consider the fantasies Poe created with the written word



By Carolyn Devonshire
Contest Title: “Among the Dead,” sponsored by Constance LaFrance ~ A Rambling 
Poet ~


Details | Loss Poem | |

A Rose In The Heather.

So still and beautiful lays the rose in the heather,
Lifeless and dying, given to bring you happiness,
So fragile is this rose laying in heather,
Slowly withering and drying, crumbling to a powder,
I look at you and see this rose ever fading,
Once growing, living, accenting its surroundings,
But now gone, plucked from the bush by one mans lust,
I could never compare you to this rose laying in the heather,
For your beauty surpasses its own,

So still and beautiful lays this rose in the heather,
Now dried cracking and dead, stored in a book to bring memories,
So weak and faded is this rose in yellowing heather,
Slowly falling apart as you touch the fragile petals,
I look at you and remember the flower when it faded,
That germinated and grew where I had sown its seed,
Now gone, plucked from the ground by one mans hope,
I would never compare you to this old heather and roses,
For its life was surpassed by yours,

Now I tell you I love you with cellophaned roses in heather,
Draining lifeless this dying confession of my dreaming,
This rose is more fragile then the first had I gave you,
But I could’t approach, my courage eroding at your sight,
I look at you now and see the love I sought inward,
Once alive and growing but only within lost confines of myself,
But never quite gone I hold this consuming fire close inside,
I could never combine your world with mine,
You always looked passed never noticing me,

Now I open my book that holds the first rose, wishing I gave it for the sake of 
chance,
Instead I hold a created memory that never came passing, 
That never could I fear,
I hold tight to the lie that through wonted silence I painted,     
But that chance for your love died with the first rose wrapped in heather.

Details | Loss Poem | |

TOMORROW

Tomorrow we can save the world
Tomorrow we'll have world peace
Tomorrow we'll cure breast cancer
Tomorrow's victories will not cease
Tomorrow we'll love the unlovely
Tomorrow we'll irradiate disease
Tomorrow we'll eliminate poverty
Tomorrow cruel prejudice will ease
Tomorrow we'll clean all the oceans
Tomorrow we'll end war and despair
Tomorrow we'll treasure our planet
Tomorrow we'll see love everywhere
Tomorrow there are good intentions
Tomorrow so much can be done
Tomorrow we'll all come together
Tomorrow I'll be more than one..

But today one is all who sees him
An orphan child pimped on the street
His face is bruised and battered
He has no shoes to cover his feet
He is only one of a 153 million
What difference could only one make
I'll only find out by seizing the day
Waiting for tomorrow is a big mistake

Carpe Diem.. Tomorrow's too late!

Contest: Regina's "Seize The Day!"
Date: 10-28-14