Untitled
Snow falls toward the ground,
with pain in every flake,
no word I get from her,
for anger is what she has.
I long to hear the voice,
a voice like a warm summer breeze,
just once more would be enough.
Those eyes are all I want,
looking back at me,
sparkling in the midnight light,
as pretty as can be.
But pain and injury I have caused her,
so now cold shoulder is what I get.
What I wouldnt give,
for one more time with her,
to hear the voice,
and see those eyes,
that changed my life,
and broke my heart.
Copyright © Ben Rosenbach | Year Posted 2008
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