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Sunday

She’s a sweet girl as innocent as a newborn infant. She’s as beautiful as the first day of spring. Her smile brightens even the darkest of hours, her smile like a blossoming flower.
The scent of her hair wanders in the air, while flashbacks of recent kisses haunt me continuously.
How can I hurt such a woman? What kind of a man would that make me, a coward? Hiding behind a slightly bruised shell. HEY, but what the hell if I can’t offer her the kind of love she needs.
I planted a seed in good soil, but I doubt it’ll see its birth here on earth. I am a murderer of innocent lives, so you see I can’t make her my wife.
She’s a sweet girl as innocent as a new born infant. In fact her soul would be sold for less than it is worth. And for what it’s worth, I realize it isn’t fair, but in spite of everything I do care…

poem by Thato Maluleka
Added by Poetry Lover
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