Far Gone

A lost love poem.

Feels like a moment ago

You were standing here

How could they be so low

As to make you walk away?

You’re presence is still lingering

As I stand in bewilderment

Subconsciously fingering

For the words to make you stay

You’re voice rewinds again

And resonates through my mind

Because I often tend

To hear you when you’re gone

You’re face is etched in my mind

So I close my eyes and see you

But when I open them I find

Myself repeating it’s all wrong

You’re light heart still touches me

Long after I’ve sat in darkness

But all I want is to see

Is your purest light

But, alas, I stand alone

And watch you walk away

Again, and my heart crumbles

And there’s nothing I can say

Feels like a moment ago

You actually cared about me

But that was a years ago

Forever far gone, obviously

Author's Note

Review and Rate, if you like.

Reviews

[Dolfury Nixie Ritter]

*is totally not stalking your work nope* This is the first one in your gallery I've read, and I must say it's really good. I like how it has a hopeful voice through most of it, like hoping that person will return, but then at the end it drops off into an almost "giving up" motion, thus stating the fact that it's long-gone memories. Very nice!

[Ethale Captor]

Thank you.

[Just Some Dreamer]

I love this so much. One of my favorite poems. :) Well done the flow is beautiful, not forced.

[Ethale Captor]

You have my thanks.

[Owlgirl]

Oh. My. God. This has a titanic kind of feel to me, like rose looking back on the days with jack. Such an amazing poem!!!!! Very well done, very touching.

[Ethale Captor]

I believe you are the first person to make this comparison, and now that it crosses my mind, it does make since. Thank you for your comment, by the way.

[Owlgirl]

lol it's a beautifully done poem. and any time :)

[marie]

this makes me cry every time i read it you said you want criticism but how can you criticize what is already at its peak?

[Ethale Captor]

Things can always be made better, but in my case, I have a tendency to continue too much toward perfectionism and wind up ruining it. Thus, I have left this poem where it is.

[marie]

good its perfect just the way it is.