15th April 2016.
My last request.
I had ash in my hands,
Blown away by the wind.
It may have been something.
I had resilience once -
It has withered and died.
No more than the ash
That was scattered by my beliefs.
All the things I forgot to say
Turn into my last request;
And I guess I need you here
To hold these hands of mine.
What a beautiful life
When you smile with me.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1397 times
Written on 2016-04-15 at 21:23
Tags Love  Life 




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