Those Left Behind
I reach for her, she is not there
I speak, she can not hear
I cry until I can no more
She does not shed a tear
I want so much to see her now
To see her bright green eyes
I long to see her painted lips
But every person dies
I think of her from time to time
Whenever rain does fall
I think of one that I once knew
Of one I can't recall
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.