Not being able to leave the past behind....
The runaway.
Beyond the rested sun
I linger within my memories
Of ample torment.
Don't think that I don't notice
What I may have done wrong.
I have this overt weakness -
But you are my fortitude
In a quest to belong.
This night bleeds for you,
For when morning comes
I shall be gone.
Poetry by John Ashleigh

Read 1037 times
Written on 2013-05-26 at 20:24
Tags Life 




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