Another day passes by…
In which I have not loved
I look up high and spot a bird
Soaring all alone
My life glides on a breeze
Isolated from all
When I cry..
None to comfort me…
When I fall
None to catch me…
When I love..
None to receive it
So why do these things?
When no one is there
A simple answer..
Because not so long ago…
There was.
Moonlit Poetry 