Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Comments about Elaine Holt
He Loves Me Not.
The wind lashed upon my face,
as he walked to me with a certain grace.
He held my hand for the first time in a while
and gave me a sad little smile.
It was smile that his eyes,
had no hope to disguse.
His hand on mine suddenly tightened,
in fact, so hard that I was frightened.
He shoved his free hand deep into my chest,
and retrieved a organ, in fact the best.
He looked repentant, as if commiting a sin.
He through it to the ground, it shattered like porcelain.
And on the ground I could see,
Fragments of my heart beating for he.
My breathing ...