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 553 times
Written on 2009-04-05 at 04:42
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Brian Oarr |
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