Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2015
He was not cold and callous,
But warm, quiet, and kind.
His breath smelled of lilies and he kissed me softly,
Until I fell asleep in his capable arms.
You may ask what it felt like to be touched by death,
But it was I who reached out, grasped his hand, and willed him to take me away.
Instead he smiled, kissed my forehead, and promised he'd return for me.
Angelina
Written by
Angelina  22/F
(22/F)   
  879
       Taylor, Bassam A, RS, ---, Γ€Ε§ΓΉl and 18 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems