Face In The Mist Poem by Timothy Long

Face In The Mist



Her crys you could here threw the wind. Her face you could see through sorrowing eyes. The eyes see through me like i don't exist. I can no longer see her face lying in the mist. And as if to die a lonesome death. She mourns in the rain for she's just a face in the mist.

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Timothy Long

Timothy Long

Auburn, New York
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