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charles-casanovaPoems
My first, my only, my true What I am missing in myself Is what I see in you Our last days were not kind Many words were lashed in haste False I was in mind Yearning for what I left behind I lay now on this barren field Gazing upon the stars of discontent Deepening blackness will not yield The easterly wind still carries your scent
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Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 8:07 AM UTC
My First, My Only, My True
My first, my only, my true What I am missing in myself Is what I see in you Our last days were not kind Many words were lashed in haste False I was in mind Yearning for what I left behind I lay now on this barren field Gazing upon the stars of discontent Deepening blackness will not yield The easterly wind still carries your scent
charles-casanova
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charles-casanova
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 8:07 AM UTC
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