Glower4
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She turned in bed
a crease came up
white linen
red heart
will it pour stains
of blood
or will it be her tears
from stained eyes
mascara dripping
to her dimples deep;
that would have it wet
nights were cruel
as they unstitched
last sew from the dressing
quietness and empty reflection
of the day and life -past and ahead
groped her softness
as her hardened heart wept!
This is well thoughtful poem, thanks for sharing
well it had a real background of sorts TFC
Thank you for sharing this wonderful poem.
It is heartening to note that you enjoyed this creation of mine
My pleasure to praise your work.