Monday, March 31, 2008

Blues

Grime on my elbows.
Streaks of tears.
Broken mirrors.
Wilted Carnations.
Dusty books.
Fallen music.
Drudgery.
Moonless nights.
Endless hours.
With you gone,
It isn't the same anymore.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

awww...am still here...!! :P

Anonymous said...

I understand..completely...
SA