deepundergroundpoetry.com
Your Footsteps
Afraid and alone, watching my blood pool out on the floor.
I look up to the stars and their cold light and wish I was one of them so I couldn't feel.
Once so full of joy now it is a washed out memory.
Alone in the snow watching the moon as it takes it's path I watch it with silent wonder.
Dead on the inside a miracle it is to breath without pain.
The bruises are slowly fading as I sit waiting for you to return my hope ebbing away I hear your footsteps behind me
I look up to the stars and their cold light and wish I was one of them so I couldn't feel.
Once so full of joy now it is a washed out memory.
Alone in the snow watching the moon as it takes it's path I watch it with silent wonder.
Dead on the inside a miracle it is to breath without pain.
The bruises are slowly fading as I sit waiting for you to return my hope ebbing away I hear your footsteps behind me
Published 15th Jan 2011
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Anonymous
23rd Oct 2012 5:19pm
The seed is there, its always there. Just takes a little nurturing to grow and blossom into the flower it has the potential to become. Enjoyes your piece.
