Twelve Poem by Eman Awad

She counts the hours to see,
him every day at twelve in the afternoon.
She tells her self, he loves me,
no matter how late but he's coming soon.
She knows and thinks she's sure,
that they have dreams and a world to share.
He dies for her and loving her more,
when she's alone, he is the only one to care.
No gravity could stop her flying,
whenever he shows up so late at last.
Forgetting that she was dying,
now that his eyes are the future and past.
Twelve thirty and a half past one,
but she can't go home, waiting still.
He'll come, he'll surely come,
he just loves to be late but he will.
And she feels so terribly alone,
while we see that other girl he is with.
Why would he close his mobile phone?
the visions gets dark and all are lonliness.
But the other girl never knew,
she knows that he loves her so.
So, love in her heart for him grew,
and she promised not to let go.
And he flies,
or shouldn't i be saying this word.
Some one dies,
and some one is building his life,
over his only world...
But some thing like this,
at some times must be felt.
Some thing is missing in her happiness,
and does he feel any kind of guilt?
And what is he to be doing now,
building his world and her's over a grave.
A grave of a heart that some how,
will get torn only if he's brave.
And what will the happy girl do,
when she will be happy no more?
All the misery they'll get from you,
meeting another girl at the time you met her before.
Dreaming with love in your heart,
while some one dies and the other's with fear
When did this act start?
your body was there but your heart is here.
Would they be a memory on your shelf,
while they still dream of,
meeting you at twelve...