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Missing You

I pace my room,
I sit to think,
My hour of gloom,
In blackened ink.
Is written,
Scrawled,
Sifting blankly 'cross the wall.
Each tick of the clock
Is a thought of you,
Each creak of the floor,
Makes me want you more.
Midnight.
Up again,
I have pleaded, begged, and cried,
'till to bed so weary eyed,
I crawl,
And see the words upon my wall.
I dream of you,
Nothing more that i can do,
The truth is,
I miss you...
... A lot...





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crubs3 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 18, 2010 at 11:57 am
This is so amazing!! i love it!! could u please rate and check out my work?? thatd be great!! thanks and ur so good!!
 
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