i really hope

this was written in response to a letter that my little jean sent me some time ago, when i still knew her as jeanette, the one and only.

scathing at the differences of two lovers in tow,
maybe taking hiatus and breaking older woes;
giving up the urethane and thinking of older days,
or trying to love a photo and leaving distant waves.
feelings are ever so strong, with truth of worry;
i won't fret, or look for the past to bury, even if
your parents are the executioner, judge, and jury.
walk out in the morning to see what you really want.
words and ridicules fall on deafened years,
but paper cuts are the least of my fears.
as breaking china fixates the younger tattered,
we look at the heart yet again not quite shattered.
twenty-four months of supposed pipe dreams
and flying on distant wings leaves distress
in the wake of love, family, and other strings.
stitching the distance of a thousand miles fresh.
cleaning the wounds of yesteryear,
accept the words of distatse and sour favor;
looking to the past for that young girl in fear,
the one i loved grew up, and time had saved her.

Reviews

[Kimmee Jean]

tears are welling up...i love this so much because it is me...