Broken
As she sits ever so quietly
in the corner of the broken room...
she smiles.
When she catches a glimpse of the moonlight
forming a warm glow around his sleeping face...
she cries.
As she reaches out her hand
unable to resist the urge to run her fingers through the dark curls...
she smiles.
When the simple touch of her hand
causes him to flinch and pull away...
she cries.
As she quietly moves herself
back to the corner of the broken room,
she sits ever so quietly...
watching him...
loving him...
and reminding herself that tomorrow is another day.
Then she smiles.
in the corner of the broken room...
she smiles.
When she catches a glimpse of the moonlight
forming a warm glow around his sleeping face...
she cries.
As she reaches out her hand
unable to resist the urge to run her fingers through the dark curls...
she smiles.
When the simple touch of her hand
causes him to flinch and pull away...
she cries.
As she quietly moves herself
back to the corner of the broken room,
she sits ever so quietly...
watching him...
loving him...
and reminding herself that tomorrow is another day.
Then she smiles.
2 Comments:
I really don't mind if you use MY poetry here... but would appreciate it if you would give credit to myself as being the author and also add a link to my website.
www.thelittleprince.org
Thank You, Suzanne
Also, the name of this poem is called, "The Broken Room." I would also appreciate it if you could change the title.
I guess you didn't notice the copywrite on my poem either. :(
-Suzanne
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