It broke him down to tears,
to learn the wicked of her heart.
He wrote to her the sweetest words,
on this earth beneath the stars.
He watched her eyes watching him,
to many numbered days.
To ever think it would ever end,
that she would walk away.
Love should not be bittersweet,
Or a puzzle hard to follow.
Now he lay in bed at night and pray,
for death before tomorrow.
He bathes his face with tears,
because his soul is full of sorrow.
And lay in bed at night and pray,
for death before tomorrow.
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sorrow-63/
