I looked at the boulevard
I saw us
The breeze seems familiar
I dreamed about us
I can hear our footsteps
I can hear our laughs
But the ghost now hunts me
As you were not here anymore at my side
What a small town
That everything is stringed back to you
The moon would have our company every night
But now and then I'm the only one who visits
YOU ARE READING
Echoes Of The Dead Poets
Poetry"Dark inks on dark secrets, full of wonders and ends, thoughts of the night of murky life." ©cover not mine
