Ugly and faded, it hangs on the bridge at our lake. It sits under the mud covered, blue crescent moon towards the end of the wooden post. Each visit, I stared at it, squinted my eyes in disgust and turned my nose into the air. I was left to ponder their once existing love. Confusion erased my admiration and eagerness to visit our lake. Before I continued down the stone, gray path, I kicked it’s small, heart-shaped, weathered body once, maybe twice, and stomped away. Almost two years later, the remainder of his old, broken affection disappeared. Left is a mark of her that slowly fades away. But added, is a new prosperous love that forever stains.
0 Comments
|
AuthorElementary Education and Writing Arts Student Archives
December 2010
Categories
All
|