Rachel Henley Poems
All My Woe
I ask of you something dear.
Something heartfelt and somewhat sincere.
Hold the one you love,
Closer now, and ever so near.
Tell them how you love them so,
How them breathing, makes up for all the woe.
For the one I truly loved,
Does not, even now, even know.
How me breathing without them,
Is the reason of all my woe.
I miss the way your fingers tangled with the grass.
The patches of dirt on your pale soft knees.
How you felt as one,
with the birds and the trees.
You muttered that I spent too much time,
working for money that would never be mine.
Cities will swallow up your soul.
We are digging for nonexistent gold.