Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Streetlights passing by reflected In her storm of mixed Emotions render her tears Falling stars. Makes a wish with every salty   Drop on her lips. Lips one man would touch briefly With the tip of an adoring thumb, and By that satisfaction alone Die fulfilled, While others see her as a tool, tossed Back into the box when dull and Exhausted. Fit for a throne, yet only every odd evening Finds her way to bed from the sofa Before sleep finds her fading with fatigue. Shoulders, neck, back, wrists, all Aching in unison; a choir of Discontentment, yet still driven by the Love for her teenage Kings. I always hope she's laughing. I Always hope she sleeps. In my mind I rest a hand upon her Belly when she dreams; the Only way she'll accept a touch Without shying away With a faint, forced smile. Beams of full moon finding their Ways through bedroom curtains to her Nearly closed eyes. She yawns a tear or Three and turns towards the pale Warmth; moonlight again rendering Them falling stars. No wishes for now. Rest is her only lover. I always hope she sleeps.
0
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 9:11 PM UTC
Without Shying away with a Faint, Forced Smile
Streetlights passing by reflected In her storm of mixed Emotions render her tears Falling stars. Makes a wish with every salty   Drop on her lips. Lips one man would touch briefly With the tip of an adoring thumb, and By that satisfaction alone Die fulfilled, While others see her as a tool, tossed Back into the box when dull and Exhausted. Fit for a throne, yet only every odd evening Finds her way to bed from the sofa Before sleep finds her fading with fatigue. Shoulders, neck, back, wrists, all Aching in unison; a choir of Discontentment, yet still driven by the Love for her teenage Kings. I always hope she's laughing. I Always hope she sleeps. In my mind I rest a hand upon her Belly when she dreams; the Only way she'll accept a touch Without shying away With a faint, forced smile. Beams of full moon finding their Ways through bedroom curtains to her Nearly closed eyes. She yawns a tear or Three and turns towards the pale Warmth; moonlight again rendering Them falling stars. No wishes for now. Rest is her only lover. I always hope she sleeps.
sgholter
Written by
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 9:11 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem