He painted me red

He painted me red.With his love,That you could tell, just by the way he looked at me,I was believing. Fast forward through years of content and life,I could see it too.They say words lie,Deceiving?He would care for me, like none would. Bare soul, like my feet.I’m walking.The sky is dark, like my

Retreat

A poem by a poet who wishes to be identified by her pen-name -Annie O' Hara, I only post it for art and talent like such needs audience.There might be words for silence But not a remedy for heartache And I have been in pain since But now the pain is taking toll.Summers