Don't Worry Jim, I Remember You
- Tabatha Jenkins
- Mar 17, 2017
- 1 min read
Lonely,
out here lonely,
but not alone.
Just a sweet loneliness
that smells like freshly mown grass.
A too bright sun
keeps my eyes too narrow
to see whose walking by.
I don't think they see me,
they only hear Jim Morrison,
and wonder who the hell that is.
Yes, people are strange,
and I find them all interesting,
because I'm the strangest of them all.
This springtime isn't even spring-like.
I don't have any thoughts to think,
and I don't like my memories.
