Silent tears streamed down her cheek,
on the table laid lifeless roses,
whose petals fell to the ground,
drained of all significance.
A treasure she held close to her
heart, became worthless as words.
Love she gave, but none was returned.
Only her heart, and in pieces at that.
Over and over she read those love
letters, trying to find that particular meaning.
For hours she started at his picture,
trying to figure out what she
ever saw in him.
That spirit full of life
is now pale and grave.
A cloudy glaze inhabited her eyes,
a frown replaced that where
a smile once existed.
Whatever happened to her heart?
Love is not there, hope is not there,
not even despair is there.
It's hollow and empty, like
a cave in the wilderness.
"What could I have done to
"Is this my fate that awaits me?"
Eventually she forgot him.
Slowly hours became days and
months became years.
She never did find love again, but
nevertheless she was content
with her life.
Every once and then, a gentle spirit
encircles her heart once more,
leaving a warm sentiment
upon her life.
Not There by Penelope Spencer
Poetry » Friendship Rated: K, English, Poetry, Words: 200, Published: 6/29/2004