Tamara Eleonora Poli Poetry

Sometimes, when it's quiet,
I still hear your voice calling my name
Your presence I can sense.
And as the clock ticks, the seconds roll by,
The minutes, hours, days, weeks just seem never ending.
We still live in hope.
Sometimes it's demolished.
Other times we keep believing.
Certain thoughts are not processed.
Memories are supressed.
It makes you wonder,
Makes you wish,
Makes you question the vacancy.
All we know is

waiting.

Poet: Tamara Eleonora Poli