Standing there,
a shadow of my broken past.
The light reflects,
the beauty of her face.
The room begins to shrink,
till the two of us draw close.
A rose in disguise,
a love discarded.
The dress recalls,
a simple date.
Where two became one,
and only one remained.
-
Author:
Alfred Lord Tennyson (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 25th, 2019 08:36
- Category: Love
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: prettylittlepoet
Offline)
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