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Untitled #1
by Andria Jane Roberts

      The wind rustling in my teardrops,
     And my heart is breaking beneath me
            Against my own will.
  The smiling enemies of my heart do laugh,
 And not sigh as I do in cherishable moments.
     As you sit in your castle of wonder
   Mine falls, crumbles and turns to dust.
 Your memory causes a deep shadow on my heart
  And your voice causes a tremble in my step.
     Oh, piteous days of hate and sorrow, 
       It shall never end. Not as long 
         As my lonely teardrop falls, 
             Nearer to my fate.
        
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Poem ID: 26817   Poem Posted: 3/12/2000
Viewed: 21051  Voted On: 311  E-mailed: 45  Commented On: 7
 
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