Sunday, January 20, 2013

Day 21 - 01/20/2013




She approached each day
Head high
Holding hope
In a bottle
Pen to tear soaked parchment
She scribbled her dreams
Set them a drift
To wash upon foreign shore
Where he would find them
Tall
Dark
Handsome
Shiny cufflinks and new shoes
Like the fantasy of every duckling
Who had yet to find her inner swan
He never came
Never put foreign feet to home soil
But hope was all she ever needed

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