Gone, But Where?
You slipped out of my reach and Ok, I can handle that but where are you now baby?
I'm scared; I don't even know if you're ok! I have so much to tell you,
wherever you may be.
I cry myself to sleep at night fearing the worst; that you're dead! ! But then in the morning I see the sun shining and I know that if you are then you're looking down on me, protecting me.
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Comments about this poem (Gone, But Where? by Lucy Grainger )
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
- Heather Burns
Udiah (witness to Yah)