PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He sits by the radio, as Floyd comes on,

Wish you were here, I believe was the song,

And in his eyes you could see a change,

The fire burned higher, he was in pain,

Memories of times come and gone,

Memories of friends gone wrong,

Bitter bitter taste, he clenches his jaw,

It's hard to deal with the things he saw,

A smile breaks through his worn skin,

Remember smiles of all his warm kin,

And you can tell he's not going to give up,

No way can he give up, he sighs, gets up,

And throws his hood over his shaggy hair,

Out with the wind, like ghost with no care,

I'm a ghost with no fear, how I wish you were here