When I am old, will you come to walk me through the garden? by Alexandria Hope

Dec 2017

When I am old, will you come to walk me through the garden?

Empty aching, missing, forgetting
Waiting on a face to appear
Through cloudy memory,
Do you remember me
Dancing through our minds
of smoke & mirror.

Aching, missing, forgetting
Waiting.

Written by

Alexandria Hope 25/Gender Fluid/Doolin, Clare, Ireland

(25/Gender Fluid/Doolin, Clare, Ireland)

162

, and

Please log in to view and add comments on poems