ElJusticePoems

Poetry is a healing to the soul’s needs

The golden brownish leaves fall from above

as the cheerful breeze sweeps by

accompanied by sounds of gay and love

There sit I on the swing so wry

Glancing at the empty quiet street

With a labyrinth of twisted thoughts

in my head and while I breathe

and the swing sways, I am caught

in despair and dismay

‘cause I miss the old you that would say,

‘ I love you till I die’

I miss the old you that never makes me cry,

the old you that will never lie

and the old you that will never say goodbye.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton