"Wait for me in the new Alley," he said. "I will come," he promised.
And so, I waited. Days turned into months. Months turned into years. I waited.
The paint in the walls dried and slowly peeled off; but, I waited.
Weathered now through decades, the structure too started crumbling. I still waited.
My once black hair had turned into a blob of grey.; my vivacious youth, now lost away. I still waited.
The place that promised his return ~ I sat on that alley, everyday.
The legs wobbled, of the bench that was once sturdy.
Trying to balance, I waited.
Sad story. But at least she has a purpose
ReplyDeleteStop waiting.
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