POEM OF THE DAY
September 24
I would write you if you were awake,
But the door has turned to stone,
And the woods encroach, encroach,
And lying on your marble bed,
You smile and smile that secret smile,
Just to think you’ve left me behind.
I would write you if you were awake,
But the door has turned to stone,
And the woods encroach, encroach,
And lying on your marble bed,
You smile and smile that secret smile,
Just to think you’ve left me behind.