A broken heart's not photographed;
A shattered hope, not photoshopped --
There's dreams that die before they're born,
And others, only lately stopped --
But in the silence, and the dust,
The sun kicks up, with its first rays,
A memory, like an iron weight --
But who would notice
Nowadays?
Like this:
Like Loading...
Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
View all posts by Beleaguered Servant
