There Is One In Love With Her
There is sadness in her memory;
How appropriate the rain--
So she turns her mind to wandering
Gazing blankly through the pane.
So cold and gray the winter's day
As she clears away the frost--
Recalling, though reluctantly,
The love that she has lost.
What of the spring she contemplates
Through a cold and icy view--
What of the sun and wildflowers
And the happiness she knew?
But her vision, clouded by the mist,
Is inadequate to see--
The gentle man who bleeds for her...
And that was always, me.
Get Creative Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
05/20/14
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