Walking Through Three Quarters Past Ten

Only a note,

Left on her bed,

All of the words kept within his throat,

Everything that he hadn't said.

Small enough to be held in her arms,

Yet never immune to her charms,

Checking the desk with tears in his eyes,

Twelve months it had been since his last cries.

Screams that still had yet to be heard,

All left in just one word,

Just one reason why he couldn't stay,

More still blocking his way.

Only a rose,

Drawn perfectly in his mind,

Walking the path he chose,

One he couldn't find.

Held up by the vase,

From the old days,

When he had first met her,

Wishing he could stay for longer.

Just big enough,

Yet farthest from tough,

Finding where his memories lay,

At the end of every day.

Only a memory - now vague,

In black and white,

With jealousy spreading like a plague,

Coursing through him in the dead of night.

Keeping him from sleeping sound,

As though he were six feet under ground,

Waking up from this unending dream,

On the edge of the broken seam.

Leaving these few sentiments behind,

On the cliff of his mind,

Closing the door and walking away,

Wishing again that he could stay.

Author's Note

Open to reviews!

Reviews

[Whiskurz]

I really liked this piece....You have talent.....Keep writing.....Whisk