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In her best dress,
She waits –
Clock watching,
As each quarter hour
Ticks by, a reminder,
She thinks –
Of the fifteen times
This has happened before.
Her hope comes undone,
Like the ringlets in her hair,
Falling from their designated place.
As I watch –
Her dark eyes melts,
Forming a single tear,
That runs down her face,
From her chin,
And drops to the ground.
As she wipes the residue,
Of this solitary drop,
A fine rain falls,
And she thinks to herself,
He’ll never know she cried.
Kevin Brown © 04.09.2016
Published by Kevin Brown
Written by Kevin Brown
7 years ago 
