I can’t hear
you nor see you
right now.

My fear starts
to creep in me.
I am molested by

This sleepless
night recurs.

I can’t find
you anywhere but

in the
whereabouts of
the thousands lost.



About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Thirteen

  1. mihrank says:

    great combination and well balanced, bravo!

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