Today my words are empty,
They stand like used milk bottles,
Vacant and neglected,
Fragile, unprotected.
They once shimmered in sunlight,
Waiting on the doorstep
Until I ask them in,
Now they're left for another day,
Because no one lives within.
Today the skies have darkened,
A heavy leaden grey,
My words
That once were lively,
Have softly slipped away.
Tomorrow a gust of wind may blow,
I might hear a shattering sound,
Those perfect shimmering milk bottles
Lie in pieces
On the ground.
(Image: Google)
No comments:
Post a Comment