Mar 05


A tear slid down her cheek
Slumped alone in the tower
Had all the bread gone stale
Had all the days grown sour

Wet eyes tracked a bird
Gliding past the island's shore
Another tear rolled down her cheek
and crashed to the concrete floor

She wondered for the hundredth time 
What was it that she had done?
But the bird didn't answer and flew away
Towards the burning sun

Her eyes fall upon the patch of grass
Where she had tried to plant a few seeds
But the tears she cried weren't good for growing
and all that sprouted were weeds

A jeweled crown lay hidden on top her head
Covered by a veil of hair
It had lost it's worth a long time ago
so she pretended it wasn't there
She wished again that she could leave
Sail a boat past the teasing sun
But all she could do was sit and weep
on the island, population: one