And I'll wait for
the sunset
leaving hues
of pink and blue.
Splattered on canvas... as an artist's
after-thought.
Wisps of faded clouds forgotten, an unheard fallen
oak at night.
Wind brushing
across our carved names, like thoughts put down with chalk.
Rivers washed
away mounds of dirt like every childhood
dream once had.
I stood in earnest, letting
the rain wash
salt from my tears, just to ask
that painful question .
"How am I to love?" said as but a
whisper in the wind.
Your worn smile, cracked like broken sidewalks, can't hide your
knowing eyes.
With a hint of woeful pain, I heard
"It seems we are the same."
Is there no chance of fairy
tale love, in this world so full of
hate?