Profile photo of Ronnie Edwin

Humming Bird

With a broken voice,

Sounds of her weeping guitar

She darts like a humming bird

Among falling branches

Will she be free?

From the violent hands

Dad is a drunk

and I hide in the closet

She says, “It is alright”

Kissing my forehead

Her cold lips are bruised,

Is it blood?

or tears?

that I feel on my skin

when did the roses decay?

Or they became bruised

Fallen to the ground

Where angry feet creased their petals

The frames are broken,

The pictures are in the flames

The vows are the ashes,

of yesterday

When she was a humming bird,

Chirping in the early spring

Profile photo of Ronnie Edwin

Ronnie Edwin

Just poetry and chess. The world is a beautiful place if only there are enough words to speak of it's beauty.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.