She Does All The Talking

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem is very long, because it is more like a rhyming story. There are no Stanza's, it is one big verse basically. I hope you enjoy and remember I am only 14! So I don't know if it is any good! Please comment and tell me what you think. I think it's alright! THANKYOU EVERYBODY FOR READING!!

Submitted: January 13, 2012

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Submitted: January 13, 2012

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She Does All The Talking

She does all the talking,

he takes it all in.

She does all the whining,

his heartbrakes within.

She stands up and bids goodbye,

he lowers his head,

and begins to cry.

He could speak,

and he could try.

Standing tall, away she walks,

and he can't breath,

wishing he'd talked.

He looks at her from far away,

wishes she'd come back,

he'd make her stay.

By Rhiannon Neale ©

With dry eyes,

but a crying soul,

he begins to run,

and feels such a fool.

A hand upon his wounded chest,

a broken man who's lost his best.

He falls to his knees,

and he prays,

for a second chance, please,

and down he lays.

Please God help me.

I need to know,

did she ever love me?

Yes or no?

He sits at the dock,

looking out to the bay,

drinking glasses of whisky,

all through the day.

He's lost all hope,

he's got no faith,

just his thoughts...

And an aching pian.

A shocking thing,

he throws his drink away!

Walks to the railing,

closer to the bay,

and looking down,

his head dropped,

the water is deep,

but he isn't shocked.

His eyes are bloodshot,

and tired too,

but he doesn't care,

just whispers 'I love you.'

He climbs on the railings,

to the other side,

he isn't afraid,

as he shouts 'goodbye.'

A crowd gathers round him,

with terrified eyes,

as he takes the plinge,

as well as his life.

He sinks to the bottom,

and he doesn't come back.

He was sick of the fights,

disagreements and attacks!

The girl, well,

she wasn't seen again.

Found dead, months later,

by several policemen.

The story goes,

a gun to the head,

they don't know why,

is what was said.

The story goes on, she'd still loved him you see,

never in her life,

had she felt so guilty.

He was in pain

from the moment she left,

watching her go,

felt like the end.

He turned to alchohol,

and relied on drugs.

But all he needed...

Was true love.


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