I hold the moon in my heart.

 
 

Seven years have gone.
Almost a decade, you know.
Nothing left to feel or say,
nothing left inside my head.

Every night I look outside
my teardrops fall over the grass,
because this night you won´t return,
tomorrow you´d still be gone.

Dreams and illusions are gone,
watch the grass grow old.
Because nothing else we can share
but the moon above our heads.

 
 
Taking part in One stop Poetry