Bereft
Like the wind on my cheek,
Life passes me by,
Unlike my pain,
That wants me to die.
Grey skies turn blue,
The winds pick up,
It's life again,
Waiting to be nuged.
My candle flickers,
In the dark I sit still,
I see the soft light,
On my windowsill.
The morning is near,
There's winds blowing in,
I think I'll let them,
Caress my cheek again.
Copyright © Vickie Hurtt - Thayer | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment