Poem -

Without a soul

I think of life I think of death

They remind me both of her sweet breath

Her hands were warm but they've grown cold

She leaves me now as I grow old

I wish I could move on and start again

But she's more then love she's my best friend

Her lips were red and bright but now they're grey

Without her I lose count of night and day

When I die I'll die alone

My closest friend is his her gone soul

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Comments

author
Shaun Cronick

This at least deserves a comment here I believe and to say thank you and enjoyed reading your forlorn words of tragic loss and a conclusion so equally despondent.
Thank you for sharing and hope this comment reaches you.

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