Moving On

The clock tells all
Time to move on
And breathe easy for a while
Ready for Sunday
The dawn of the summer sun
Your face dies with winter
And my heart is rebirthed in spring
Time is hard to hold on to.

Your voice still echoes off the canyons
Hidden deep within the desert
Your words are dried up
Your heart draws blood from it’s thorns
Sucks my body dry
I waited for your fairy tale
But a girl can only sleep for so long.

I’ll find my own way from thirst
I’ll pick out your thorns
And wipe away the blood
And as I face the sun
I’ll take my chances wandering the desert
To leave you in winter’s clutch.
I’ll head into summer
And I’ll leave you lost behind spring
Still promising storybooks
With happy endings.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2008

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace