Thursday, March 20, 2008

Thristy

Reaching in,
Filling the glass.
Knowing it wont last.
Slipping to the floor,
slow motion,
Remembering the emotion.
It hits the floor,
Right as she walks out
the front door.
Everything breaks.
Left laying there,
Nothing more than
Broken shards.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

that is simply beautiful

~Emmie

9:52 PM  

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