I wrote this in April of this year so It's pretty old.


The wishful wind whispers and echos,
Like the sigh of a girl with a broken heart.
It spreads. It hollers. It rips. It hurts.
Like the cries from the girl who's torn appart.
It comes down with rain, new drops hitting the ground,
Because then, no one can see she's crying.
The rain waters the seed for her new start.
"Breathe again," She's wishfully hoping and sighing.

Poetry by Nora
Read 376 times
Written on 2006-08-22 at 09:18

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