A chronicle of the misadventures of a would be writer

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Of Wedding Dresses and half Baked Dreams

In the white dress
Her white wedding dress
She walks down, so demure
The white skirt swaying
Like the wedding bell
That’ll soon announce her
The man’s wife.
She sits there
Watching herself
Exchange the nuptial vows
Seething with envy
Only to lose herself
In a mirthless laugh
Of self mockery
The very next instant.
She has turned
Into such a cynic
When it comes
 To love;             
And why not
When with all the pleasures
Of the mortal soul
It’s the fabled pains of love
Whose absence
Torments her thus.
She has turned
Into such a cynic
But not quite.
The romantic in her
It’s still there
Gasping for its last breath
Letting out soul wrenching shrieks.
She’s had enough.
This sweet nightmare
She wants no more;
But her eyes
They just won’t shut.
She lets out a sigh
Part resignation
Part longing
But mostly just despair
She can’t help it
Her eyes wide open
She continues to stare.

No comments:

Post a Comment