Broken. 

Her signatures didn’t match, neither did her cards work 

Heels hurt her ankles; and the back zip made her uncomfortable

She stood patiently looking at her watch 

She was hoping something, somehow would tick in the clock 

The minutes turned to hours and hours into a day

Her routine of waiting never changed its way 

Righteousness never flowed in through the passage of her door 

She never knew what it would be if life had been tuned not abhorred

Perhaps destiny, is what she consoled her heart of!

Maybe the winds were listening to her in disgust and moved on 

Patience gave into pretence; circles reduced to dots 

Brokenness defined itself through her unnerving faith and trust.

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Author: teapotideas

Nonsignificant. Hardly human.

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