Once

It had been only once.

She had been much younger.

Much more foolish.

Her heart desired him,

And, for a few short hours,

His heart wanted her.

The moment ended

And both went away.

The sheets lay wrinkled,

Unmade and unclean,

Holding the memories of night

And mere shadows of his love

Which, for once, had been true.

If only once.

Comments

Agent-Arika-007

I wrote this without really having a reason to, and surprisingly there was nothing that led up to the writing of this. I didn't experience anything in this poem, but I hope someone enjoys reading it.

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