Seamstress

Upon her work table there is a box

with needles and thread and a rusty lock

 

Remembering the conversations they have had

the hurtful words that stung so bad

 

The broken heart and fractured mind

all those words had left behind

 

 

She starts to work so feverishly

upon her brand new masterpiece

 

Her fingers moving nimbly

the thread picked out  so carefully

 

Oh the horrible words that have been said

so through his mouth she pulls her thread

 

She sews his mouth up nice and tight

remembering those dreadful nights

 

Forever silenced he shall be

Her masterpiece of broken dreams