As the sweat drenches down my face
and him packing everything he owns in his suitcase
everything bitter when you look halfway in
every image is unclear if your not filled in
bitter is what we call the lonely widows
because there exactly like the photos
Being lonely is the only time we embrace the past
feeling in the blank because everyone knew it wouldn't last
you give me the summer blues
leave the heart wondering with no clues
YOU ARE READING
Hate is beyond me
Poetryabout a girl who doesn't get life and wants to understand it. a girl who's man leaves her, life of a weeping widow.
