The love of his life?


His hand in her hand still was,
Nothing now mattered,
Whatever it was!

He was too tired of her,
after all this long.

Felt like walking with a heavy chain,
being dragged along.

What seemed to be Luck,
seemed ill fate.

That love,
was turning into this hate.

Was it that she looked good no more?
that he got someone else...

Neither knows he 
nor me!

When i get to know,
I'll surely let you know! 

The End

2 comments about this poem Feed