THE MAN ON THE BENCH - By Sylvia Salima


At the same spot he sits, A tiny bench is his usual spot,
A book on his hand, His mind at a far,
The same spot, The same time,
His heart seems desperate, His eyes glance at a particular spot,
She passes he blinks, She falls: he helps,
His lips are sealed, His pale face glows,
He walks away speechless, Then he turns:
I always wait for you.

- Written by: Sylvia Salima

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

No comments:


Blogger Templates | Design by Make Money Online | Privacy Policy | Related Websites and Blogs