When I wake up
And you arent there
There is an emptiness
Within me
I find myself grasping
At nothing but of memories
of what once was
You use to roam the fields
barefoot and fearless
even the mountains paid their dues
murmuring grass as the wind blew
hushed by the grace of your presence
All the poetry that will be posted future and present is written by myself.
Please comment if you like and enjoy.
Bergman
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