A girl and a boy,
waiting for life to pass,
sit by the corner store
on the damp grass.
In a world of misfortune,
and a city of doubt,
with the calls in the streets
and the anger of shouts.
Her hair dances
in the damp breeze
which plays with the
old, oak tree's leaves.
In the shaded sunlight
and the sheltered rain,
they wait for joy
to come again.
His hand holding hers and
his gaze wandering over,
her delicate skin
that's like a soft field of clover.
As the day turns to night,
the clouds into stars,
the healing of time
acts on their scars.
YOU ARE READING
I can't sleep poetry
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry. Not all of it was written in the middle of the night but what was is horrible. I hope you enjoy the good poetry in here though!
