by Dennis Wolfe

Created on: December 13, 2009

a castle with tall walls

a volunteer toward the pain buried with-in the swift motion of countless years,

these are  the tears,

not a single one meant for anyone to see,

once one upon shoulders

whispered, " How can you allow this to be?"

slow and steady,

years running into each other,

again bitterness discovered for the first time

tearing at my spirit, digging into my mind,

every single thing meant for her, every single thing meant for her

tomorrow is right there with-in the rising sun

tomorrow

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