Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2020
(I still hear (your)
Quavering voice,
As if you are yet unsure
Of all you may say..)

..But time flows on,
In only one way..

(And though wistful..
You might never again
Drift near me,
to simply stay..)
A Mess of Words
Written by
A Mess of Words  M
(M)   
55
     Freya and Imran Islam
Please log in to view and add comments on poems