There was laughter in her eyes.
But sadness in her heart.
There was song in her voice
and love in her art.
There was music at the window
and poetry at the door.
There were broken rose petals
and shadows on the floor.
She spoke in simple poems.
That never ever rhymed.
When she walked away it hurt.
Almost every single time.
She walked through ancient memories
lost in my empty mind.
She pardoned my past mistakes of love.
Because love is not a crime.
She tried to sweep away the petals
and shadows on the floor.
They wouldn't move they wouldn't budge.
So she tried and tried some more.
Instead she swept away the laughter.
She swept away the pain.
If she stood on a cloud you see.
She could sweep away the rain.
There was kindness in her eyes
and forgiveness in her heart.
There was longing in her voice
and magic in her art.
There was beauty at the window.
Melancholy at the door.
There were broken rose petals
and shadows on the floor.
The petals remained there still
as did the shadows on the floor.
They wouldn't move they wouldn't budge.
But she tried and tried some more.
Perfect in her determination.
Wholly devoted to her task.
I wondered why she wouldn't quit.
But was too afraid to ask.
Rose petals as red as my lovers lips.
Shadows as dark as her hair.
On a floor as vast as the oceans.
I pretended not to care.
But I failed to hide my face.
A face of doubt and concern.
The heat of her temper was rising.
The walls began to burn.
I walked slowly up behind her.
Placed my hands on the old straw broom.
Together we swept the rose petals
swiftly out the room.
But those dark shadows remained
steadfastly to the ground.
The burning walls surrounding us.
Slowly crumbled down.
There was laughter in her eyes.
But sadness in her heart.
There was song in her voice
and love in her art.
There was music at the window
and poetry at the door.
But no more broken rose petals
just shadows on the floor.
...just shadows...shadows on the floor.
