A Special Gift

A Special Gift

A Poem by Wild Willow Blue
"

In love with what kills her..

"

How long must I walk through the valley of evil

                and death not come for me

How long will I have to wait for a glimmer of hope

                from your crooked eyes

Smash my heart against the stones and waves

                         of a better tomorrow

                 Hopefully you’ll come tomorrow

I’m tired of sitting here alone

                not knowing of your face

How long until the scars go away

Till the flowers on the walls dry up

                and the cob webs wither

I’ve walked a long forever’s time

                and death has not come for me

But hopefully in the lace of

a better tomorrow

                Hopefully you’ll come tomorrow

© 2012 Wild Willow Blue


Author's Note

Wild Willow Blue
All of my poetry comes from the heart.

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Reviews

I'm quite impressed with the wordplay and language you used. Each line was like it's own individual masterpiece. The emotion displayed here is very strong and I enjoyed this poem greatly.
The whole idea of this was just really well thought out and pieced together nicely. The mention and topic of waiting and hoping just added it's own fantastic twist. Great poem, can probably provide much inspiration and hope among those who need it.
Well written, keep it up:)

Posted 12 Years Ago


Wild Willow Blue

12 Years Ago

Thank you. I actually reread it, and was surprised the this piece came from me! I am so glad you enj.. read more
Odayin

12 Years Ago

Oh I know that feeling, and I love it. It really brings a sense of accomplishment to the piece. I .. read more
Wild Willow Blue

12 Years Ago

Thank you again!

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241 Views
1 Review
Added on May 31, 2012
Last Updated on May 31, 2012
Tags: Death, Valley, Flowers, Cob Webs, Tomorrow

Author

Wild Willow Blue
Wild Willow Blue

OH



About
I am 33. I am gay/non-binary. I started writing in 8th grade. The person whom I started writing because of, I never got a chance to thank. We were never good friends, but we knew each other. I owe her.. more..

Writing