The wind sweeps through this forgotten seaside town,
everyone has left now the sun is not around.
Every bone in pain, my body a colander to the wind,
bent double in wretched agony, I move on.
I scour the beach and town in search of you,
through places you’ve likely never been.
A delicate yet frantic search,
for the girl that no one’s seen.
Your face etched into my retina,
my eyes exhausted of their tears.
This loss has ripped the soul from me,
and drained me of my years
If I had held your hand more tightly,
taught you to defend yourself from harm.
To run from things unsightly,
and avoid those speaking words that charm.
Would our world be any different?
Would you still be with us now?
Or would this winter of eternity
Still be upon us now?
William Davoll (C) 2012
From the The-Five-Daughters-Spite Available on Amazon