There was not a song I could listen to
without hearing his voice.
I could not fall asleep without dreaming about him—
about that rundown house, the roof where I sat hopefully,
and the fields where I had waited.
I could not look at the night sky and not think of his eyes.
Even just a day never went by when I did not mourn for his absence.
That in everything I do and in everything I write,
there was him. He is always there.
YOU ARE READING
See You On The Other Side
Poesía"Isn't it awful to find love at such a young age and be robbed of it for the rest of your life?" This is a collection of poetry and prose dedicated to every person who couldn't find a way to move forward from their past. To every person who loved so...
