Love left buried
in a shallow grave,
under the hollowed out
Old oak tree.
Weather beaten,
but the engraved name
still stains the skin.
Two hearts,
now tainted,
torn apart,
once sat beneath this tree.
One named hope
the other called destiny
but they never could get
their calendars to sync,
their desires to meet.
Their diaries too conflicted.
Except for one brief evening
under this old oak tree.
Where they carved
their hearts
for all to see.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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Peace, Love and Poetry
Kyle
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