Raindrops,
Forming patterns on the rooftop,
A rhythm of the night,
Something I can sleep to,
But I wish you could sleep too,
But ghosts don't sleep,
Or talk, or eat, or breathe,
So I don't know what you need.
And I can feel you almost everyday,
At nights you walk through walls,
While I am stuck on one side,
Many of our old friends only know you,
While I am the glass that they look through,
And sometimes I look through me too,
And I see you,
Young, with a face of innocence,
And now you're just a ghost of me,
And I live in your shadow.
YOU ARE READING
hopeless breather
Poetrya collection of substandard poetry written by a substandard poet which delves into the depths of the poet's beliefs, experiences and hopes in order to help the poet understand himself those depths and their significance. Also the photos used are the...
