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Open Poetry #46
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Tomer
Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2010-12-17 06:19 PM


She was too skinny for tonight,
her cheeks so pale,
winter thought she was born in the heart of December.

Her arms sat by her side,
fingers so frail,
her eyes wandered around the room,
picturing a day, where she was young, again.

The table felt her sorrow,
letting her fingers play
with the chin of itÕs white under clothe.

her thoughts were scattered.

she felt the wind had betrayed her,
betrayed the way her thin body
could support her broad shoulders and slender neck.

It was the same wind
she remembered as a child,
the same wind she woke to
when she use to smile.

She missed that feeling,
her hair use to slightly fold across her forehead,
like her mothers blonde hair,
blushing the kitchen walls,
watching her glide until
her arms reached her mothers side.

she wanted it so badly,
but she sat there, passively,
wishing her mother would say something, anything
but, she never did.
so she decided to run,
until the soil reminded her,
she wouldnÕt be going very far.

© Copyright 2010 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved
mikeandrew
Member
since 2010-11-18
Posts 198

1 posted 2010-12-17 08:18 PM


Nice poem good job.
Prats
Member
since 2010-12-16
Posts 74

2 posted 2010-12-18 08:59 AM


wow... nice poem... i liked reading it...

Heaven is not that place where you go when you die... it's that time in your life when you actually feel ALIVE!!!

Tomer
Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168
Michigan
3 posted 2010-12-22 01:30 PM


Thanks for the kind remarks..happy you two enjoyed

Cheers

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