Saturated robbed Me Waiting.
Ruth always looked glanced at his watch, which is now showing exactly five o'clock. Approximately long hours she sat alone on the edge of the green lake. Maybe there is someone very important that he is waiting.
"Ris, you really have not come anyway." Ruth inner restless, awaiting the arrival of Haris who has not seen his nose.
While the day began to grow dusk. The sun began to highlight a seat Ruth and her eyes began to dazzle. Uneasiness he felt now turned into saturated. Who the hell is the person most at home if told to wait?
"Ris, you are evil! I've struggled...
Labels:
grief poems
,
poetry