Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2014
“Every night, I talk to his picture
As if he was really in front of me,
As if he could actually hear every word I'm saying,
I don't mind if it seemed crazy...
It's just that this would be the only time
That I would have his attention...

That he would finally hear me.
witheredhyacinth
Written by
witheredhyacinth  New York
(New York)   
296
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems