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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1454770
I often feel his presence.
With Me

I thought I heard you call my name
whispering in the wind
and as I turned to walk away
I heard you call again

A gentle breeze blew my way
I smelled you in the air
and though I reached out for you
I stood in solitaire

The sun beat down upon me
with warmth from up above
I really miss you baby
and still give you all my love

I looked around to find you
your face I did not see
yet, somehow I knew
you were there with me



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