I've dreamt of dark towers and cloudy skies,
Of torrents of rain and trees stretched high;
Of a small young girl all alone at night
Tears in her innocent, pretty pale blue eyes.
The cold weather was harsh like the words that were spoken
It was apparent that her heart had been broken.
From her young child dreams she had been woken,
The locket round her neck, that was the token.
A dashing young boy, so full of lies,
Had stolen the life out of those pale blue eyes,
And while she'd slept he had taken flight,
Disappeared in to thin air, she doesn't know why.
She blames herself for all that went wrong:
It's not my fault-but it must be-he's gone.
I wish she'd keep fighting, but she can't, she's not strong,
He'd played a game and she'd played along.
That small little locket that hung round her neck:
It's purpose was love, but it made her a wreck.
YOU ARE READING
Poems and Notes
PoetrySometimes I feel the need to write poetry, so I type it up in the notes in my phone. Now they're going on here.
