Orphan

A girl sat there in the cold.

Muttering to herself.

Footsteps approached, and she looked up.

Her eyes full of hope.

It was a man who was walking.

The man never even saw the girl.

The girl hung her head,

and continued to mutter.

Her numb fingers were weaving in and out,

in and out,

in and out of her long hair.

Hair that was unkept and untreated.

She stared at the little dead rose in front of her.

Wondering how long it would be.

How long,

until she's like that rose.

Reviews

[Carol Cashes]

Damn, I'm coming out of a depressive episode (only three weeks this time) and everything I've read tonight is so...damn...SAD! This is honestly and starkly written...and SAD AS HELL!

[Dan James]

Yeah, you see, my bad. Honestly, with this one, I was trying to go for a happy vibe, but then my writing side of me took control... and well there's this. I'm glad you liked it though! (Despite it being depressing as hell)

[Carol Cashes]

When writing evokes an emotional response - it's good. And I know what you mean about a piece going its own direction and not the one you had planned in your head when you started...some pieces will not be denied.

[Gee]

Sometimes I think to myself it would be oh so much better not to have the worries, grief of family, not often, but sometimes.
Enjoyed the read Dan

[Michelle]

Wow interesting. very nice.