Back on the highway
absconding on the way
from life
Midnight stretches past the dawn
Refusing to let go
And let me be
Your breath on my face
Memories of your touch
Don’t let me be
Wondering where I left the scissors
As I search for them in the empty drawers
a blank face in the mirror
Stores back at me
Through misty eyes
Back on the highway
absconding on the way
from life
I hear faint sounds
Calling from far away
As I sleep
They took some time
To travel up to me
And the clock stopped on the way
Wondering what the shovel feels
As it lies by the side of the mound
Covering me
Burying me
When I died.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem