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The Waiting

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If love was meant to be a secret
Her heart would be its keeper
Deeply bound within veins
Never to be set free
Its pulse grows with everyday that passes
The unbearable ache to escape the body, to be shown to the world
Swelling starts to occur and its pulse is now a roaring boast of thud’s ringing in her ears
In her mind, she realizes that waiting for him is a waste of time
And yet she still proceeds to do so
The question ponders in her mind
As she tucks away the silver line of hair behind her spongy ears
And as SHE wipes away a tear from underneath her experienced eyes
HE is taking joyful stroll down Loveless Street
A blonde and petite girl in his arms
Oh you can bet he knows that he is beyond his years for her!
Yet she is perfect, for she is young
Still Monica waits
Knowing that she is broken
Yet she is stern enough to wait




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