The Last Rose
My call goes unanswered
as I collect dust
In the Gallery of Broken Hearts
a storm of tears meets my face
as confusion sits at my feet
I hold my broken heart with shaking hands
it was given back to me
but not my dignity
as I am on my knees
I turn my back to the future
not wanting to forget the taste of a first kiss
or what my fleeting moment of happiness
and take a breath
but gag at the stink of rejection
I have seen many winters
but naught as cold as this
and the last rose given
withers and dies
and I am left to do the same
Picture
I look at us
Our memories captured on glossy paper
Staring at your face
Trying to tell if you ever loved me
If you truly didn’t care
Why were you there?
Do you ever see my face
When you are kissing her?
It has happened to me
To many times to say
I’m not the girl that lied
But I’m the girl who cried
To many nights to say
Remember how you changed me?
Well now I cant go back
I’m soft and unsure
You should be here to protect me
You could be my cure
I found a letter you wrote
God, how it filled my heart with hope
Thinking you’ll love me again
But you cant see
The beauty in me
I saw it in you though
Nikki
Poetry For The Broken
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