mementoes
A crucifix on a silver chain
blackened by soil.
A golden locket
shiny new
a memory
a gift perhaps.
Tumbled together
in the earth
and found
today.
All souvenirs of love
gone bad.
I see the photos
on the news of girls
in their sweet youth,
a schoolgirl neat
or a wild child
but all in innocence
and purity.
And all lost.
All loved.
but lost.
A life
is missed out.
Gone.
Why is this chaos of emotion
just so strong,
why stronger than the love
the trust, the hope?
A full stop puts an end
to joy.
As wrists are tied
and mouths are stopped.
Horace Thespider
Fri 18th Dec 2009 18:23
Ann
Thanks for your kind comment.
By the way, I can dance.