By Miranda Smith, age 13
While watching tears stream down your face
I start to feel the sorrow; the pain
The soulless whimper of your cry
The deep sincerity of your eye
I remember the days when we’d lied
Down next to one another
Watching the sun fall and then recover
And all the fireflies dancing with glee
Filled with love of being free
Just like the prince you are to me
Happiness and a joyful year
Whisked away by one so dear
Whether or not you feel it to
I will always be here for you
So what name do you give love?
Is it hers or is it mine?
Copyright © 2023 The Washington Times, LLC. Click here for reprint permission.
Click to Read More and View Comments
Click to Hide
Please read our comment policy before commenting.