Broken Hearts And Sundays

She spoke

Of broken hearts

And Sundays,

Gloomy afternoons,

How no one

Really loved her,

It was her body

They yearned to tune,

She spoke

Of loneliness and sadness,

Wandering through

Her rooms,

How no one

Really loved her,

Neath the magic

Of the moon.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

From “Dockside” www.StrangersAndPoetry.com

9:00 AM December 28, 2014

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11 responses to “Broken Hearts And Sundays

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