Skies so blue, I mean black; ominous
Yet, I smile at the sight of you
Though you're nowhere close
Only your essence lingers.
How do you miss a soulless soul?
Holding on to what was promised,
Guaranteed. Written. Printed.
Opposite results.
Up all night, sleep all day.
Insomniac. Low energy. Hyped. High.
My mind running faster than your lies.
Guess this is what they would call Vignette.
Wed, 2015-07-29 11:17
Report SPAM #1
37th Weekly Poetry Contest winner: Vignette