Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2016
What can I do? What can I say?
You're not replying, you've gone away.
I thought that maybe, you might care,
but those feelings you mentioned, weren't even there.
I only existed, to sate your lust,
and I am reminded, that all is dust.
I'd heard her voice every night since that first accidental evening of perfection. But now I'll never hear it again.
The Last Wordsmith
Written by
The Last Wordsmith  New Zealand
(New Zealand)   
507
     Jamie, ConnectHook and Paridhi Sharma
Please log in to view and add comments on poems