PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Weeks are like years,

With each sunset I mourn,

The gentle breeze dries my tears,

A new day has been born,

I look up to the sky,

One more day has just past,

Through the urges to cry,

I pray the day goes fast,

The day drags on once again,

The air grows thick and dence,

As I shutter from within,

Here in my silence.