Sing me a lullaby.
The melody that is vaguely familiar to us,
Solemn fields of our memories,
Fading before my eyes,
Your silhouette in dim lights,
The scent of salty air in mid-February,
Warm breeze blows on my face like a greeting and a goodbye.
I'll see you then.
Let's look once again at the same sky we're in.
And be drawn to places we've never been.
YOU ARE READING
I Should've Hugged You The Last Time I Saw You
PoetryWould it make any difference? If we knew that it was the last time we would see each other again?
