And I'll wait for the sunset
 leaving hues of pink and blue.
Splattered on canvas... as an artist's after-thought.
Wisps of faded clouds forgotten, an unheard fallen oak at night.
Wind brushing across our carved names, like thoughts put down with chalk.
Rivers washed away mounds of dirt like every childhood dream once had.
 I stood in earnest, letting the rain wash salt from my tears, just to ask that painful question .
"How am I to love?" said as but a whisper in the wind.
Your worn smile, cracked like broken sidewalks, can't hide your knowing eyes.
With a hint of woeful pain, I heard
"It seems we are the same."
Is there no chance of fairy tale love, in this world so full of hate?