Being without you seems a bit without sound,
You were that horrible peace in silence, killing everything around.
Lack of you was the lack of smiles and breath,
According with face of war child just before starving to death.
Giving up on you,
Counting down from myself, mutually..
Pens clinging to poems without you,
Think how cold rhymes began to sense.
What a curse it is, called time,
Like a water over the dam,
Like a large archaic road with same traces,
For sake of excavating touristic regions of our souls,
Bearing simple sings after digging, to remember..
A poem turned out to be this you-less sense,
I could not notice this much poet I am,
For now, I am memorizing your verses, on end!
Meo - 2018
LiteraryBlog.net - Meo's Poems Blog
"Poems Without You"