The Girl Of My Dreams Poem by Jayanath Silva

a tap on my door
you call my name
I have a visitor
After awhile
You sit next to me
On my cold bed
hold my hand
Ask how me doing
I see your smile
Like yesterdays sunshine
Whitney will be proud
To see you now
I touch your lips
we talk about the times
We both lost
In our own worlds
I ask you to stay
Cook me supper
You are in a hurry
And kiss my forehead
Tears swell in me
But I'm determined
not to show em
I clasp your hair
But they are gone
Only the dead gheko
On the untouched tea