alone on this trip to paris <br />no warm arm here to hold me <br />no lips yearning to kiss me <br />no fingers intertwining my long hair <br /> <br />what a feeling of loneliness <br />that led me to sleep <br />only to dream of the past <br />that left our relationship to a steep <br /> <br />those everlasting words you spoke <br />that drained into my heart <br />i can hear your soft whispers <br />that linger in my presence <br /> <br />a black shadowy figure standing before me <br />reaches out and tries to touch me <br />and just when our hands nearly touch <br />i awake with a dissapointing expression on my face <br />tears begin falling like little rain droplets <br />forming a puddle with an image of you <br /> <br />so know more cries <br />as i wiped my sore eyes <br />and held my head high <br />with my bags by my side <br />to walk the path of a new life<br /><br />elena winters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/moving-on-84/
