How does a broken heart feel on the fast train?
Is it blurry as the houses passed, my eyes seeing ?
Is it scheduled, so my smile knows when to show again?
Is it fast, that in a drop of a tear it's done?
He is there, cold staring through my open eyes.
He is there, more vivid and cold through my closed eyes.
A vicious shadow, shudders my mind, crying seems natural.
He is a good man, I know, but lost for love.
Happy voices bring me back, I am already too sad.
Two men without broken hearts, I assume.
How does a broken heart feel on the fast train?
I stare the window once again, he is there, it's painfully the same.
YOU ARE READING
Send My Love
PoetryThese are sequences poems which built from an idea of one story about recover yourself...about love of course since it is the one people wont got bored of.
