You are
the memory
I keep reaching for,
but it slips
through my fingers
like water.
After you left,
I tried to stitch
my heart back together,
but the seams
kept unraveling.
Sometimes,
I wonder:
were you really there,
or just a question
I forgot to answer?
But you are the past,
and I am learning
to look forward
to a future
without you.
Ongodia James Peter
TheWildPoet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem