Once upon a weary heart
Starts a life of teary dreams
Steams a moist of endless hope
Mope as snail caught a bunce
Wail in self-pity, howl with sorrow
A scramble heart creeps to ramble
Among the lonely streets of “Desire”
He prowls aimlessly with no avail
Discriminated by the passion of love
He shoved his way into ones heart
But with no sympathy by Love
His heart was crushed in immerse grieve
To love… he loved no more
And as the days grow by the years
Sitting on his rocking chair, he sat
Ready to die, a lonely old man
~Jackie~
Love
S
Sad but true and it happens. Very good expression. Soul poetry.
Thanks,
Emilie
Now Toris: share the fourth with America.
http://www.authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry.asp?id=68051