Hopelessness

Waiting patiently

By nature’s own hands, the wind blows the dead brown leaves around the old field.
Where no one's opinion matters.
The day gets dark & turns to night, but we'll make it through.
She sits & waits wondering
Dark, Gloomy, Smog
No more hoping she will be there.
No more of hearing her laughter.
No longer feeling her warmth.
Is this forever?