Tall. Strong. Handsome. Clever.
Leave him? Never ever.
He stands. Full of passion.
Love his sense of fashion.
His eyes seem so kind.
Still can’t read his mind.
Soft lips. Brown hair.
Kiss him? Wouldn’t dare.
Hold hands. Feeling distant.
Time is nonexistent.
I’m starting to worry.
The world’s getting blurry…
We’ve stood for a while.
No rest. No smile.
He puts his eyes down.
I am starting to drown.
Steps back. Sadly smiles.
The space feels like miles.
We both feel the tension
From hand separation.
He leaves me. With sorrow.
And then comes Tomorrow.
La Separation
© Copyright: Мария Брейман Шамкалян, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111022201404
Свидетельство о публикации №111022201404
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