Sara, <br />when should your hands dropp <br />from mine, <br />white and empty <br />and looking up at the sky <br />the stars make me <br />once again seeing, blind. <br />I being but a boy, <br />and you taking to long, <br />the song that you sing <br />makes me cry.<br /><br />Is It Poetry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sara-being-a-boy-that-cries/
