Ghost of Him
I saw him sitting on my bed
Hunched over, head in his hands
Wearing his favorite collard shirt.
He looked lonely, sad, empty.
He wasn’t really there.
He never really was.
The ghost of him
Was all I ever knew.
Which makes sense as to why
I always felt cold
When he was in the room.
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kgwpoetry
i have a lot of feelings and most of those feelings are turned into poetry. i hope you enjoy my work and i am able to inspire you in one way or another. please credit me if you use my work with the hashtag #kgwpoetry on any social media. critiques and comments are welcomed and appreciated greatly.
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