You're gone, but not dead
You're here but not present
We have a history, some unaware, forgotten by your synapses
You were my caretaker, yet now I'll take up that role
And I will honor it, for even if I grew up with you, the old you is slowly dissapating
And theres nothing I can do but sit and watch
YOU ARE READING
Hopes of a dreamer
PoetryJust crappy drabbles I pass of as poems every now and then. Most of these aren't to be taken seriously, some aren't even based in reality. Criticism is encouraged
