Last light

The light grew dim in my room

I could tell it was fading away

I outstretched my hands from bed

To play with what light was left

I let it fall to my palms

Dancing on the tips of my fingers

Rolling up my arms

Warmly hugging my skin

Jumping into my eyes

Until the light leaves me

The room grows dark

My arms, limp

Author: Jack Bennett

Born and raised in Torquay, England. 22 years old. Teeming with thoughts that need an outlet, working a full time job at his local supermarket. Unfortunately born a poet, he will most likely suffer from this contradiction most of his life.

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