Every night, before I should sleep,
I kiss her photograph and weep;
I think of when we'd drink and laugh,
Then sadly kiss her photograph.
Such stupid show of emotions
Rids me of inner commotions;
The painkiller's temporary:
I'll be left somewhere, despairing
Until I see her face again,
Until her smile rids me my pain.
But till that time, I shall not sleep
Instead I'll lie in bed and weep.
YOU ARE READING
An Ongoing Anthology of Poetry
PoetryThis is a collection of the poetry that I have written and been writing since around about October 2018. Naturally, not every poem has been of a decent enough standard to be included here, but the ones that have been included are the ones that I lik...
