
She whimpers in the middle of the night.
No, this isn’t the first time.
I’ve heard her silent cries before.
“Does she call my name?”
Her eyes have lost all shine.
Her youth has fallen over time.
I see her unruly thoughts,
Unwinding, unraveling, uncluttered.
This spring has been the toughest,
His shadow took over,
Dark and gloomy.
Now she just lies there, lifeless.
Wish you had come sooner, lover.
When her love could drown you over.
Wish you brought some rain with you,
For our wilted clover.
It’s too late now.
It’s too late now.