Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2014
It was a broken toy
Till I met that boy
Who gave me another one
Patched up and done.

I broke it all over again
Till it made no sense nor pain
Patching, mending, restoring -
All he did, throughout spring.

We laughed, we played
Under every sun and shade.
It snowed, it glowed
Feeling it in every node.

As natural as it seemed
Never turning out the way I dreamed
Came a day, like a bird
I left town without a word.

Waiting for the day we meet
Once again in summer's heat
He'll mend my heart, that boy
With his love, sweet and coy.
Written by
Freeda Lobo  Bangalore, India
(Bangalore, India)   
756
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems