When you aren't here,
I find bits of you.
In the corner of the room,
Wearing your T-shirt,
Which smells of you.
In the wash basin,
I didn't clean.
Bits of your moustache, if not a kiss.
Hugging your pillow,
Which won't hold back.
And sometimes in the middle of the night,
I cry till I can't,
Because I love you to bits,
And bits of you aren't enough.
Beautiful poem Sabina 👍
ReplyDeleteThanks, Kanika. Thanks for stopping by. :)
Delete❤️❤️
ReplyDelete:)
DeleteBeautiful..keep on writing
ReplyDeleteThank You. :)
Delete