We're dead, you and I.
We died.
We're ashes, you and I,
To ashes.
Dust.
To dust.
I'm a whisper,
We are, you and me,
just a sound in the trees
and I feel comforted
by that.
I died today.
You died today.
And now it's just you and me.
YOU ARE READING
Unrelated... A series of weird and wonderful poems
PoetryA collection of the unusual and the very usual poetry, A collection, a series, A set which grows over time © P.H.Dyer, 2011-2012 All rights reserved Note: I have had issues with people using my work without authorisation, and so I've had to put thi...
