Submerged

It wasn't her. I've gathered that.
She was the one thing left for me
To grab to keep myself from sinking.
My hand slipped. She swam away,
And I drift downward in the gloom,
Aware I cannot raise myself, and
Growing ever more convinced
That, when I finally reach the
Bottom, far from her and air
And life, that will be where
I stay.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2015-06-18 at 21:39

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