Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2021
Seven times we've danced around
That darkest mark of days,
Drifting past the gravity
From whence his path did stray.

Seven journeys round a sun
That no more knows the shade
Of eyes that witnessed 22
And barely more a day.

Seven trips and many moons
Spent staring at the sky,
Wishing I could raise my wrist
And grasp the reasons why

Seven's worth of dreams in which
The 'why' evades me still
And why I when I caress the skin
I feel naught but the chill.

Seven come and seven gone
And seven on my skin
And yet untouched by seven are
The memories of him.
Sarah Spang
Written by
Sarah Spang  28/F/Philadelphi, Pennsylvania
(28/F/Philadelphi, Pennsylvania)   
       ryn, The Sick Red Carnation, Marty, Crow, Rea and 1 other
Please log in to view and add comments on poems