Rings of Smoke

These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis.

january without you

Posted on | January 3, 2008 | Comments Off

i am playing with time,

gathering withered leaves,
presents of autumn.
i wanted to write a poem,
a beautiful piece about the moon,the clouds,
the stars and you,
a poem to serenade you with,
some lines to melt your heart..
i think of you,and your lovely touch,
the feel of your hair on my face,
your mischievous smile,your shining eyes..
but words are chimaera,
and they dictate the story of loss,
of your leaving,and my living,
and i tear the paper on which those words are written.
i will not write sad poetry tonight,
because the memories are beautiful,
and so i walk out in the night,
lonely with the moon,the clouds and the stars,
and you,
but the cold drops falling on me,
are only winter rain..
and so,i go back to the room,
and complete the unfinished poem..
january without you can only be sad.

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