Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2012
There is no one, other than you
Who think of you,
There are no memories, only
Your own mirror image,
This loneliness is born out of infidelity
I found empty envelopes in my letter box
And you can find words running through my nerves
Now I can fill up the sky with verses
But beloved soil,
I have lost your address
A
Written by
A  Mumbai
(Mumbai)   
4.9k
   Wordmancer
Please log in to view and add comments on poems