I miss the one I use to hold tight.
The one I kissed every goodnight.
She still takes hold of my heart,
though now we're distantly apart.
My hand still holds hers firmly gentle,
living and feeling reflections mental.
Alone but within a dream next to her side.
I miss the one this note implies.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 31st, 2025 04:26
- Comment from author about the poem: The things I still thing about.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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