Ghost of MeA Poem by Barbara Borel
The ghost of me. What once was, is still here. Drifting, haunting, loving from afar.
Braincells wasted, physically depleted, body trembling. How did death come so suddenly? Just as a child is born, the old woman draws in her last breath. I hope I get that chance. To think to laugh to love to breathe. © 2016 Barbara Borel |
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Added on December 3, 2016 Last Updated on December 3, 2016 Author
Barbara BorelMetairie , LAAboutBorn and raised in New Orleans. Use words as a way of expressing myself. I dont write for an audience or to get praise or please anyone. Writing is therapy. In my eyes expressing words in paper... th.. more..Writing
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