The september night flies through my hair,
The voices faiding in the air.
Your letter on my freezing skin,
I would do anything if you would take me in.
The roses on your balcony are shinning in the moonlight,
Your lips still linger on mine,
Forgetting the knot in my chest that is tight.
I taste your lips and the wine.
Your smile is saved in my locket,
Around my neck where you put it.
I open it at night when I wake up,
From nightmares where we break up.
YOU ARE READING
Drunk under a Streetlight | poetry
Poetrypoetry /ˈpəʊɪtri/ noun literary work in which the expression of feelings and ideas is given intensity by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature.
