PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In the final act

Rain poured down her cheeks

Her hair, a beautiful mess

On the barely covering cardboard string-tied tree

She held the notebook umbrella high

And leaned her head

Against a carved-in heart

And for a quick moment

If all was silent

You could hear her sigh



And then it was gone

Muffled out

By the animated birds

And newly stage-light glare

With what was left of her shelter

She would now begin to write

Of a world where a boy would sit

Just miles away, prop knife in hand

Waiting for a reason to carve

And while some left dissatisfied,

Others cheered as they made their way to the exit



But I just sat there



Patiently waiting ..