Every April I'd sit here and cry
I'd rock my body to the dead and die
Looking at your gravestone here and now
Makes me wonder why and how
How it was you
Why it wasn't me
The rain would wash over my body
And I'd hug my knees like anybody
The crash made a burn
Like scars that seem to churn
I never felt so alone
With the shaking of my bones
Now looking at your gravestone
I just see what's set in stone.
YOU ARE READING
A Trip Into Space
PoetryA bundle of poems thought of by myself. Please don't use any of these without permission!!
