Picking The PetalsA Poem by Anita MayHe loves me, he loves me not, Something I could say a lot. Though I don’t, because I know, How he loves me dearly so. As I lay awake at night, I hope I did everything right. The day that is leaving, He often takes my evening.
Though dreams of him I don’t have, I awake to find him in my head. I try and figure out the math, As I lay in bed.
Oh how I miss him when he’s away, I can’t stand to wait another day. The longing for him is growing stronger, I don’t think I can last much longer. © 2013 Anita May |
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Added on January 8, 2013 Last Updated on January 8, 2013 Author
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