Here she was, again.
Lost in a deep hole alone
Like she ever felt.
But now with teary eyes as how her soul also felt. - teared.
Little had she known of the capability of words to wound a human's soul.
Mind you, this one was deep.
Wiping each tear away, they eventually formed again under her chin.
She was hurt indeed.
Hurt by her closest. If she had known of an alternative, she'd most definitely choose to protect her heart from hurtful, acidic words
She laid there on her bed. Singing softly to herself till she slumbered.
YOU ARE READING
Portraits of her heart
PoetryTo all poet enthusiasts, well this is for you. This lovely book is a third person narrative, and yes it's full of poetry whereby you find romance, somber, melancholy, hurt, ecstasy, love, affection, fondness, remorse and a whole lot more. So please...
