Free Poetry Contest
Free Love Poems \
Like the final wave of the hiker's hand,
as he descends down behind the brown, lonely hills.
Like the haunting whistle of the faraway train,
heard faintly through the dark, ancient forest.
Like the last glimpse of the distant ship,
at the foggy edge of the blue ocean horizon.
The memory of your face is departing
from my shattered, sorrowful mind.
The memory of your love is fading
from my bleeding and broken, but healing heart
By kennethcook On 10/31/2012 9:10:47 AM
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