When she is alone.
By the window in the darkness she turns pages in her mind,
Silhouetted in the evening, solitude is so unkind.
In harmony with the night, and frequent car lights.
So much pain keeps coming back again.
Love, she thinks is for life, it sticks you like a knife.
And kills you slowly,
is nothing holy?
It hurts, she wants to tell him it hurts, but he is gone.
And so many nights wait to hurt her
When she is alone.
poem by Kevin East
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
