R. K. Hart
I was walking by the river one day,
When I saw a young girl throw something away.
She removed it from her hand,
Then with her foot stamped it into snow white sand.
I stood little chance curiosity got the best me,
And I was driven to go see.
What was it she removed from her hand?
A little sifting found a beautiful golden band.
She had left the river and headed toward the bridge,
Walking with fury and tears along path and ridge.
It struck me that broken hearted the lass may take her life.
She wanted nothing but to be some man's wife.
I removed myself at pace, and with shrubbery collide.
It mattered little I was desperate to get to her side.
Rushing toward her what would I say?
As I struggled toward her, felt as though I had feet of clay.
She stood at the bridges middle peering into the fall.
Her head sprung around when she heard my call.
She stepped closer toward bridges edge.
I walked slowly yet steadily talking to distract from the ledge.
I was sure she was willing to see her thoughts error,
That there were those who would be her carer.
Then as I reached out for her hand
She carried out her senseless plan.
She had decided to leap into the cold sinister darkness.
Away from any possibility of loving caress.
One had hurt her it is true indeed,
But many other in her circle had a different creed.
I collapsed to my knees in anguish and tears.
She had done the worst of my fears.
The life we have is the greatest gift.
To live with fervor and without rift.
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Comments about this poem (River Girl by R. K. Hart )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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