A memory swept in the wind of my mind.
a passing gesture of physical expression.
Sadly ending in the wanting of him..But he never saw me..he was blind to my essence.
Never understanding my heart nor my intellect.
HIM
A passing gesture retrospect in the collects of time, the shifting of lives to sift the mind.
Yet, I long for
Him
My passing reminiscence in time.
This poem is from my self published book. Please check it out at:
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