He saw her dancing to a music he cannot hear. She was asking him to dance with her but he refused. How could he dance without music? Her eyes were pleading as her hand was drawn out to him, still he refused. He cannot dance without music. He would look like a fool.
And now, he was indeed a fool. Now he wanted to dance with her, but she got tired of it. She was through with dancing. She got tired of waiting for him to held held her hand and sway with that mysterious music that no one else could hear.
And now he could hear it, loud and clear. So loud that his feet ached to dance. But now, she was leaving the dance floor for good.
He heard the music, but it was too late.
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Green Meadows
PoetryLife is a green meadow where green grasses grow. Some are tall bushes; some are just short weeds. No matter the length, no matter the size. Each one has a story; each one has roots. All are rooted to the humble earth, and all are under the radiant s...
