Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2012
A hand is all we see
reaching from the door
he’s pulling her to him
but the moment is much more
than just him holding her
because the algorithms are wrong –
it’s the math that she can’t do,
that ****** her all along
There is no tall-dark-handsome
who will fix the broken things
but a voice that sometimes whispers,
*You are not broken. Sing.
Lindy
Written by
Lindy  Alabama
(Alabama)   
3.5k
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems