deepundergroundpoetry.com
In the end
The water trickles
The noise repeating.
She sits at the table
Everyone around her has left.
She is completely and utterly alone.
The smell of fresh roses bring her to tears
The memories of that day
come rushing back
a whirlwind of sadness
but in the end
Roses will die
The noise repeating.
She sits at the table
Everyone around her has left.
She is completely and utterly alone.
The smell of fresh roses bring her to tears
The memories of that day
come rushing back
a whirlwind of sadness
but in the end
Roses will die
Published 10th May 2011
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