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Talk with my Love

I am not sure of how time is given in heaven
But I hope you save some for me.
You have left without touching my skin
And I live knowing I am without.
Looking down on us…
Making same mistakes
Inside the rotations…
This batch of the living
Lives for the preservation of the ugly.
And I do not know how
I can open their eyes…
I thought words would be enough…
But they took them
And claimed them
With spite…
Staying in darkness.
A thought fed to an unhealthy mind,
Does not produce fruit.
That is why, my love
I wait for a better answer.
Our works will be left behind
For those who seek light.

poem by Erica Borges
Added by Poetry Lover
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