Mar 2019
Present fills the tomorrows untold futures,
With fear and heartache.
Rooted Loss that never blooms,
But its petals are feared.
The spring of the grim reaper nears,
Time but a concept,
An knowing when becomes to soon.
With fear and heartache.
Rooted Loss that never blooms,
But its petals are feared.
The spring of the grim reaper nears,
Time but a concept,
An knowing when becomes to soon.
When you feel loss before you even lose something, you soon realize how much that something is a someone you can't let go of. The what ifs, become regrets for things you still have time for.
