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Psych-o-rangE
Poems
Jan 15
Slipped
A song
A birthday
A book
A person
A love
A trust
A future
A memory
A minute
The point to this-
I numbed pain, but these thoughts were in vain,
Just the fading sunset on my face.
Fingers of death reach to cover my eyes, touch my cold face, and envelope the memory of all that slipped away.
All I can feel is hands.
How I feel when I forget the next song I want to play
#pain
#memory
#loss
#death
#cold
#face
#hand
#touch
#trust
#vain
Written by
Psych-o-rangE
24/M
(24/M)
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