The Girl Who Sat On The Street Of Malone

She silently sits alone,

On the street of Malone

With the cold breeze running through her hair and the raindrops on her skin

She wonders about the world she lives in,

The unnecessary drama and the constant worrying

She thinks about her past she will ever be burying.

She thinks about the people she’s met so far,

And the one who in a few months became her star.

An artist by profession, but a lover by choice,

He played with colors like a child playing with his toys.

Everything then seemed so magical and true,

Pictures of her were all he drew.

All day long, merry was all they made,

She knew he was the one; He would never fade.

He was the one who captured her heart,

Cupid without missing had hit his dart.

Time might take away those moments, but she knew memories will always bring them back,

Love was never a thing any of the two lacked.

But soon things turned bitter between the two,

Everything started to seem to blue.

All she wanted was her Prince Charming and happy ending,

But only she knew what impact on her life had this game of heart lending.

She wanted to run away from this misery and sorrow,

But she had nothing; nobody who would let her borrow.

To escape, she sat on a train unknown,

She had no money and she had no phone.

Depressed and disappointed, sat she,

Thinking if she from his clutches was free.

But only she knew how she missed him,

Remembering the good times when he made her grin.

The train took her from valleys to mountains,

She only wished she had never put that coin in that magic love fountain.

She never imagined a day would come when she would be nothing but a loner,

Everyone started calling her a groaner and a moaner.

She still sat in the train, waiting for this despair to end

But there was no way her heart would mend.

She didn’t write to him, nor did he,

She suddenly remembered how he etched their names forever in the bark of that huge oak tree.

She started to figure whatever he said was nothing but a lie,

And each day, slowly, a little she would die.

She wondered if there was anything to him she meant,

But now she knew her heart had a dent.

So with moist eyes and a little hope in her heart,

She looks at his paintings, she looks at his art.

He was everything she wanted, but he was not hers anymore,

He left her broken, her heart he tore.

She cursed herself and wondered if she had any fault or was it just her fate.

She was still trying but she was sick of the wait.

So she still silently sits alone,

On the street of Malone

With the cold breeze running through her hair and the raindrops on her skin

She wonders about the world she lives in,

The unnecessary drama and the constant worrying

She thinks about her past she will ever be burying.