Last Night

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  • Lost Love

    Last Night

    Without her here
    I feel lost
    I seriously want a beer
    I just wanna get drunk but at what cost?
    I want her here again
    So she can stop the pain

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    deathinside27’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Pondering the End 0
    Revenge is sweet 1
    Last Night 0
    My p.o.v. 0

    deathinside27’s Friends (4)