Up and Around the Broken Cross; and Again

​He never said what colors we would see,
Only that if we saw them that we were blessed,
In whichever arrangement we find our flowers, they are pleasantly presented to us at our go arounds
She was up in the middle of the night, holding onto to him one last time for her dearest life,
Remembering the feeling of air brushing through her hair
Hating the feeling she could never let go
For the wolves came knocking, and we waited in our own skin under the wool
Thinking you’d always stay was what made me the ultimate fool
In the morning, it was always up and around
Understanding the strength of the trees about the town
Upon the cross, one of the beams came falling down
I thought I was the only one falling apart,
For in your mourning, it was always again and again
Follow your heart as the wind chased away your ability to breathe,
It seems so distant,
For the miles and mountains that once held us away and the fires coming closer to you are so willing to take you with them
I’m only still watching the wind
Here she laid upon this bed,
Holding back her tears
And in her head
Lived her longest fears
Upon his chest,
The hardest beating from the heart that swallows most,
Time to let go of the love that was the best
The hardest thing to say was goodbye to the wife whom is addressed in this post
Up and around the broken cross, and again
I’m still waiting your trains arrival
At the platform of my heart

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

84 − = 83