Robin goes Quickly on a Park Bench

by Gary Bosgraaf, aquarius - Not entered


Mid life, mid December
she strains hard to remember
the last time she was smiling.

She can't fathom a way
to cope through another day
with head in her hands she starts sighing.

Her eyes flood with sorrow
as she contemplates tomorrow
she longs for hope and begins crying.

Depressions normal instinct
when ones love is extinct
is to watch a lonely heart dying.

Reason for writing:

    
A certain distant sun a friend used to wish upon died that day. E-mail me with critiques please..    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1996-08-10 22:24:02
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:38:55
Poem ID: 45348

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