When this very hour returns NEXT year,
Who knows where we’ll be, or who we’ll belong to then.
We’ll be trapped in the wreckage of our separate lives,
You won’t know my way, and I won’t know yours.
This place where we sit together today,
God knows whose silence will fill it tomorrow.
And as I stand on the edge of goodbye,
I can’t stop wondering:
If we ever MEET again, how much of you will be GONE.
.
happy/sad NEW YEAR!!
About the Creator
Komal
I write poems and stories that hit the feels.
When I’m not lost in my own plots, I’m either daydreaming about the next big idea or just winging life with a grin.
𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒𝕟 𝕀𝕄ℙ𝔸ℂ𝕋
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