Why
when they're gone
the images linger on
and on,
it makes me wonder
when they're gone
echoes that reverberate
'time to get up or you'll be late,
wash behind your ears,
go and play,
dry your tears and
we shall go to
Morecambe bay'
pictures that lighten
that brighten
are right on
the button and
all have a say in it
somewhere in the way of it
and it
goes on and
on and even
when they're gone
they become the
wandering echoes that
move slowly across
my day.
'
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 3:46 AM UTC
Why
when they're gone
the images linger on
and on,
it makes me wonder
when they're gone
echoes that reverberate
'time to get up or you'll be late,
wash behind your ears,
go and play,
dry your tears and
we shall go to
Morecambe bay'
pictures that lighten
that brighten
are right on
the button and
all have a say in it
somewhere in the way of it
and it
goes on and
on and even
when they're gone
they become the
wandering echoes that
move slowly across
my day.
'
Request permission to use this poem