The air I breathe

I miss you so much,

do you care. 

I miss your taste, I miss your touch;

in despair.

The flowers wilt away,

as I stare.

I pound my fists, I pound and say;

It's not fair.

I'm sorry my love,

my heart is your broken chair.

Push and shove,

All we need is repair.

 

*S*

View silver's Full Portfolio