Clutching to ghosts
Sipping on warmth
tempered by an icy glass.
Hot and cold mixing,
battling on my tongue.
Combating like the thoughts
caught in my troubled mind.
Clutching to ghosts that
grow thinner each day.
Stretched by distance and date
but never quite erased.
12/29/11
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Posted on January 2, 2012, in Poems and tagged dark, light, Poems, poetry, sharing poetry. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.
ahhh i know how this feels.. lovely piece :)