Blood shot eyes look up at a spotless sky
Crickets quiet themselves enough to listen
Open there ears to hear the low moan of her
The outcry of help,regret.
But nothing would help her
Nothing ever could
The light in her soul has burned
And no love can find her in this
20 years of waiting for someone to rock her
And only the breeze
Can keep her warm.
Saw of my writer friends yesterday, they always get me inspired. I feel like I need to practice, I’m losing my touch.