A desperate heart,
tattered and torn and forgotten.
Stomped and grinded into
concrete of her life.
Hoping,
Wishing,
Praying for something.
Anything to undo what's been done.
To finally say what's been left unsaid for so many years.
If you see her on the street,
Do you smile
or do you look down at the sidewalk
and ignore her pleading eyes?
The fingers on her two rough hands
lock together nightly in prayer.
Do yours?
I wouldn't think so.
So you are able to buy out a jewelry store.
She is able to tell a story without ever speaking.
Who's the richer?
A Johnny Cash song would be so inappropriate here. But I got to sing it anyway. It expresses how it feels: 'Flushed From The Bathroom Of Your Heart' No romantic was he. Tom
WOW! This poem is awesome! The last part is amazing. Most people think life is about the 'stuff', when it's really about the people. This is one of the best poems I have ever read and I'd like to put it down as a favorite.
This is expressing the sorrow and sadness to the reader's heart. It's like a gloomy picture of depression occurring between autumn and winter.
Such a great idea for a poem, and so nicely put together: imagery very good, great words, great felings! Therefore, A great poem!
I felt the poem almost formulaic until the question you pose at the end. And I found that a VERY interesting juxtaposition. In a way, I agree with Uriah. But of course, the distraught woman's emotions, transmuted some day, will bring a rich harvest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i guess if i had the money to buy a week's worth of coffee i'd give her some....and yes, my hands do. My heart is the same way.