I Miss Her

I miss her,
like a rich person fur.

I miss her eyes,
more than the great blue skies.

I miss her beautiful hair,
nicer than the spring fair.

I miss holding her in my arms,
like a grandma with her yarn.

I miss her personality,
and now I'm coming to a finality.

I miss the three magic words,
just like a guitarist knows his chords.


by James Pritchard

Other poems of PRITCHARD (35)

Comments (1)

What a poetic piece bravo