Obscure Hearts.
It is three am, and I wonder where you are, and why I am without you.........
Tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock...tick, tock.....
Each clock clamorously claims victory ~
Fleeting
Victory...
The sound of tires on a wet, dark highway is amplified, and I wonder how
Many of those travelers comprehend their destination and how many will
Arrive
Home
Safely...
Reality thrives not on rainbows.
It is winter, and I need to breathe ~ yes~ a scrupulous black and white.......
Austere borders...ice and rock...a conscience of the finest caliber................
Forty-seven years and my
Act
Remains
Imperfect;
Then, theatre, for me, has always been a spectator sport; although truth
Is on my side, I remain brutally beaten...
Why am I without you?
My pretty white crochet curtains surround the bleak, for your mystery makes
Me weary, and why does April taunt me so...
You reside in a stone hut, and I am a sleepwalking virgin.
Copyright © Tamiviolet Manchas | Year Posted 2007
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