The Walk



Creases in her party dress
Shoes in her hands
She takes the slow deliberate steps
That only the heartbroken know
Driven only by a basic desire
To simply move forward
The events of the night a distant shadow
A forgotten stain on her mind
She barely feels the rain on her face
Nor the tears that mingle with it
She is numb, defeated
Legs on autopilot, she heads for home
For the safety and comfort she knows
Telling herself never again
Adding another lie to the evening
Knowing inside this won't be
The last lonely walk home




Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 473 times
Written on 2009-04-05 at 04:42

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Poignant and universal. I think most of us have experienced such a walk home at some time in our lives.
2009-04-05


Brian Oarr
There you go tryin' to make me cry again, Rache! I think this is one of your best writes, dripping with metaphor. Nicely penned.
2009-04-05