she sits alone
with everyone she knows around her
they all have their hands out to her
and she gives
happily
but holds her hands tightly to herself
the dust lightly covers a book
the page still unturned
to the next
from where she left it
out of the window
the blooms of life
she gazes
but intently she listens to everyone
hearing their words
feeling their words
and giving happiness to them
but
no one hears her
no one asks
in haste to make pursuits
they’ve not asked her
about her
and so, she sits
with a smile
watching things bloom around her
then…
someone asks
and her hands unfold
and out they step
into the things that bloom
YOU ARE READING
parts
PoetryWhat words cannot say, they sometimes do. This a collection (ongoing...) of thoughts and fears and joys and worries. Some of the things in here you may have experienced or encountered before. Some you may not have ever witnessed or thought of. Pl...
