I'm standing in Times Square
On New Year's Eve
Earlier than intended.
I sit on my own
Watching the crowds form
And the chatter grows with every second.
As night creeps closer
And the music blasts behind,
I search for you,
And I know you won't search for me.
The clock is ticking
Only two more minutes
And you remain a stranger to me eyes.
Sixty seconds left
And my eyes finally land on you.
You and her.
The crowds count down from thirty
With their love close by,
While mine is so far from me
And his is there, hugging him.
Five seconds left
And somehow your eyes lock with mine
And you stay mesmerized for whatever reason.
I mouth "happy new year"
As the timer goes off
And the ball drops
With following screaming
And couple kissing.
I walk home
With fresh tears in my eyes
Because I finally come to realize,
This year you aren't mine,
You're hers.
YOU ARE READING
Hurt, Pain, Regrets
Poetrywhy do we endure such pain, in such little time? {my rant of poems}
