The slow and delicate touch of his lips,
Strokes over my fingertips.
His eyes are set on nothing but my own,
When he's away, I feel so alone.
His voice brushes past,
But this, I know wont last.
The ringtone of his text,
He's probably waiting for his next.
All the words he has ever claimed,
Are just lies.
-
Author:
elsiewarrenswords (
Offline) - Published: December 19th, 2016 11:38
- Category: Love
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments2
Wonderfully beautiful poem
Thank you ever so much - that means the world
Welcome
Beautifully written poem but such a sad ending. Great job though!
Thank you! It certainly is☹️
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