Broken Rhythm
Ticking like a wick in a candlestick,
She plows the snow in a driveway-go,
Sailing pale and frail in whirling hail,
She wails by the stale woods bound by nails,
She unrests in broken rhythm.Knew only a few with the whole wide view,
Too much, she couldn’t do in days of rue,
She shivers and quivers, and gazes at the mirror,
Sink her feelings, by the brink of what she’d think,
She crumbles in broken rhythm.The story was such and I couldn’t do much,
Those icy cold waters I couldn’t touch.
Rich was her stitch in this relentless sitch,
Impressed me did her caress, in a mess no less.
Wrought stress like a tight dress’s tight press.
She went on,
In broken rhythm.
||PS:3||