It feels strange
In here
The cleanness
The freshly swept floor
The single
Remaining bagEverything
That strange feeling
Touched something
Deep down
In that hidden placeA memory surfaces
Empty rooms
Stacked boxes
A single car remaining
One last goodbyeI shake my jead
Forcing myself
Back to the present
Brushing away a few tearsTurning away
We walk off
For one last round
YOU ARE READING
Peotry of the Mind
PoetryThese are a collection of poems I have assembled over the years. They are your thoughts put on paper.