Glistening cheeks cradle
eyes of red
A young woman out of
tears to shed
Blankly stare at the key
turn the knob
Dehydrated and starved
break down, sob
He called when he clocked in
one more week
Until Wedding, Honeymoon
on the beach
Made some coffee; drink, sit,
plan the day
She turned on the tv and
saw the plane
Grabbing her shoes, forgot
her hot drink
Didn't know where to go,
what to think
Stepping inside now to
see this morn
Sunrise so hopeful, but
sunset torn
Never ever forget
why he died
Why you are now alone
not a Bride
Because war needs a push,
not a win,
Till the Federal Reserve's
profits come in...
Cynthia Smallwood
April 8th, 2009
No comments:
Post a Comment