It may seem quite daunting when you first look at it, but this poem’s really not as long as it looks so please R/R!

Her eyes are glazed,

And little can be seen through their smudged lenses now,

Yet within them dwells the faint flickering of a hope,

A dream,

A wish.

The bridal gown,

Once pristine as newly fallen snow,

Is now but a yellow stained net,

Hanging limply from her skeletal figure,

Like a second skin,

Which should have been shed years ago.

Within the torn shreds of her mind

She is ‘nineteen and one quarter years old’.

Her feeble soul cannot grasp the truth.

She sits,

Always listening intently

For the click of the door catch.

Though she could not hear it now.

She does not hear much any more,

Apart from the sound of his final words,

‘Don’t be late!’

Etched in her mind forever.

Now he,

And all she once new,

Lives only in the sealed case of her memory,

In which she dwells.

For it was on that day,

On April 16th 1925,

At that moment,

12.02 pm, six hours after the wedding had been planned to begin,

That the real world stopped,

And she suspended life.

So now she is happy,

Frozen in her prime for all eternity.

Waiting,

Just waiting,

And hoping,

Always hoping.

And dreaming,

Forever dreaming,

That the world might defrost

Into a fairytale reality.