He floats around with an occasional wail
Waiting
There’s nothing left for us to do
I once tried to reach out for him
Terrified
My fingers slipped through like mist
The long game makes us weary
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
He floats around with an occasional wail
Waiting
There’s nothing left for us to do
I once tried to reach out for him
Terrified
My fingers slipped through like mist
The long game makes us weary