I wait for you,
I offer you, i sit so,
beautifully alone in the wood.
Waiting for your promised coming
but your not here.
You not around and time ticks so slow.
I lay near a wild flower,
picking off each pedal and dropping them into the brook.
The tears crash to the water, and memories reflect.
Surface and Flows with nature.
Tears are a gift if there were no tears we'd have no memory.
But they still leave a broken heart.
