when the artist has nothing left to draw
when the fish has nowhere left to swim
when the poet has nothing left to speak
when the bird has nowhere left to fly
when the writer has nothing left to write
when the moon has nowhere left to shine
that is when my love for you will die
only with the end of the earth
lost
I feel so
lost.
I feel so
tired,
so weak.
So lost
when I let go
of your
hand,
walking
down the road.
I can't see
you anymore,
I can't remember
if I passed you
or not.
I just wish
I could rewind the clock
to that moment
our hands slipped
out of grasp.
Maybe it happened suddenly,
or maybe
it happened so slowly
neither of us noticed.
Or maybe you did,
but we were too far apart
for you to tell me.
All I can do is say I'm sorry,
and I miss you.
My hand is so cold without yours in it.