by branksomegeelong, Victoria, Australia
May 2014 375 Views 6 comments
Old
I sat on the cold wooden bench
It was a bleak wintery scene
dead leaves rustled by
I rose and put down flowers .
Visiting a grave is not my thing
But I had promised her
And so I muttered words
In way of the bereaved.
How quiet is the graveyard
So Peaceful so bare of life.
I turned away to my solitude
There is no sweetness,
no bitterness
Just a vacuum of emotion
Yet I am alive
A mere husk of a man
All my friends are gone,
Can you live too long?
It was a bleak wintery scene
dead leaves rustled by
I rose and put down flowers .
Visiting a grave is not my thing
But I had promised her
And so I muttered words
In way of the bereaved.
How quiet is the graveyard
So Peaceful so bare of life.
I turned away to my solitude
There is no sweetness,
no bitterness
Just a vacuum of emotion
Yet I am alive
A mere husk of a man
All my friends are gone,
Can you live too long?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2014
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Comments (6)
this is pretty powerful and poignant
ty for sharing this with us