Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
You were never
as breathtaking
as a warm summer day

You were never
as red
as the reddest rose

You were never
the stars, the moon
the all in-between

You were more than that

Now that you're gone

Even
the most breathtaking
summer day

Even
the reddest rose

Even
the stars, the moon
the all in-between

Miss you less
than I
do
Ida B
Written by
Ida B
664
   Fel and r
Please log in to view and add comments on poems