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Description
His suit is wearing thinner,
Each day he keeps it near.
The hours pass so slowly,
That he can barely tear.
What is there to hold on to?
What’s left for him to fear?
Holds his hand out to her,
But she can’t even hear.

The droplets keep me humid.
The sun brings me the rain.
Pretend can be a daydream,
Or a way of staying sane.
Your hand can hit my sorrow,
But what have you to gain?
The little child can cry now,
Even though the dragon’s slain.

Tied as if a necklace,
The chain around the heart.
It beats for the forbidden.
It beats although apart.
Who, at all, deciphers,
Which arrow is a dart?
The eyes have shone so sweetly.
The lipstick tasted tart.

Dear friend, why do I see you?
Why undergo my mind?
I cannot see the showers.
I cannot feel the bind.
The hands are laced together,
In fingers they can’t find.
Why overlap inside me,
When I cannot be kind?

The laugher echoes softly,
Within the vacant head.
The messenger is shot and,
The letter’s left unread.
Memorized desires.
Ignored what I have said.
Perfect happy-ending;
Tucked me right into bed.

© Sylwia Wielgosz 2003.