Her skin glowed in the moonlight,
as she sat on the edge.
Cars and buses passed below her,
oblivious to her presence.
She never knew why she left,
or why they fought.
All that was clear now,
was that she was gonna jump.
YOU ARE READING
the city
Poetryand no matter how much you water scorched grass and withering weeds, you will never make a garden re-grow -M.R c.2016
