Your Name Poem by Jean Paul Perez Pacheco
Your Name
A whistle can be heard
in the distance.
An echo of the past
creeping to my ears,
torturing my soul.
They sing a delicate melody
one of broken hearts and minds,
one of countless bottles of wine,
one of melancholy
of what once was.
The strange thing is
that is only one word
Its your name
Sunday, May 19, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: melancholy
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11/1/2025 5:56:29 PM # 1.0.0
