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Sit alone
House a mess
Cold seeps through the window.
Shiver softly
Stare blankly
Simpsons on TV.
Wrote a letter
For my fiance
Though he comes home at 12.
Pointless words
Scrawled on paper
His eyes will never see.
Not a mother
Not a wife
Not ready to be either.
Overwhelming
Sense of duty
Energy not there.
Frustrated thoughts
Feelings of anger
Want them to be gone.
Heart in pieces
Eyes cried dry
Shouldn't feel this way.
Life is perfect
Found a mate
Devoted and true to the end.
Wipe my eyes
Try to smile
Self pity is a waste.
Look around
Heave a sigh
..house is still a mess.
 Lunari · Fri Jan 21, 2005 @ 11:31pm · 0 Comments |
