A Star in her window.(a poem)
Current mood: numb
Category: Writing and Poetry
I dream of past lives gone by,
the life and love we made,
an era of gas light
in the old apartment we shared.
In these days I shall not wonder,
why I cannot bring myself,
to even begin to love another.
Those past lives we shared.
All too much to digest,
this pain I have held
much too long in my chest,
brought with me through death.
My dreams become salvation,
i saw how you cried.
When they brought me home on a sunday
from the field where I died.
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