September 1, 2007
By Lydia Hunt, Estacada, OR

The color of her eyes How she feels when he lies A broken heart for years to come Seems so little to more than some Broken pieces falling down Feeling though as she could drown Standing in a field alone All she wants is to be home Scattered wishes in the blowing wind Between a rock and a hard place she is pinned Watching when he does not know Wishing his love for her would grow Walking a tightrope as thin as a hair When she falls he is not there Reading in between the lines Searching for love, but all the wrong kinds Every day they grow more apart If only now she could fix her broken heart

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