Lost Love
How am I supposed to forget about you in the morning
when the sunrise reminds me of our lost lives.
Just the way leaves fell from trees, our love was discrete,
my warm skin gracing your holy flesh but these warm sheets are all I get.
The flame in your eyes that made me gaze at your smile,
You are crafted to perfection,
something I find difficult to say about this poem
How am I supposed to forget about you in the morning
when life without love means nothing.
|