She slips on her dress,
Preparing for the school dance.
Puts up her hair and pulls little strands out in front.
She sighs knowing he won’t be there.
She walks into the Prom,
Looks around and notices no one who matters is there,
He’s home spreading that whores legs.
Little miss walks around prom,
A tear in her eye.
Instead of having a good time,
She is mending someone else’s relationship.
Instead of a good memory,
There’s pain.
Four years later,
The pain still is there,
Affecting those around her who care.
But does it really matter?
The answer is yes.
Because she remembers.
Comments
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WOW!
Glad to see you've still got it. i miss reading your work, an just absolutely love the emotion in this one!
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