Jun 16
We get close,
We talk late at night.
I think you're mine,
But you're always out of sight.
The transmission fades,
My screen black as blight.
I hold those words close,
Three dots turned to white.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For The Lost People
Poesie365 observations and comments about society, life and love throughout 2022. Come with me on my journey day by day, as I write what I've always wanted to say. There is no method or planning, just thoughts and perceptions about the way of the world. A...
