I can’t

I  can’t  hear

melody    in     my     home

I  can’t   see

love   in   a    barren    land

except

for  the pitter-patter

of  a young girl’s  footstep

doodling  her  hopes  and

dreams  in little canvases

for company

with tears in her thoughts

.

I   can’t   feel

harmony   in   your    tone

I can’t smell

roses with your demands

except

for the murmur

of  a  sweet  girl’s  prayer

pinning    doodles    with

artful  hearty  messages

outside the door

to      my     heart

.

I can’t..

.

.

.