You leant out my window

And took a drag of my last cigarette

Summer was coming to a close

And you were about to leave.


Later that evening

As I watched you walk away from my car

I wondered if you knew I knew

You were moving far away.


The moon seemed to know

Exactly what you meant to me that night

As I sat on my car bonnet,

And told it just how I felt.


You never said bye

Before you left for the English coastline

It was almost a relief though

I could never do farewells


A year to the day that

We had said goodbye for the final time

I leant out my window in the rain

And smoked my last cigarette.


About Greg Moss

25 year old English and Media Graduate based in Manchester, UK. Contact me at: literatureandlethargy@gmail.com
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