Distance
I am a puzzle
Still missing it’s pieces
She is a book,
Pages not yet filled
An unlikely pairing, though we may be
I fill her with words and she puts me back together
But her pages are becoming scarce
And I am running out of ink
I fear this may be over
But too scared to believe that it’s true
So I live in anguished innocence
And try not to see the reality before me
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
