Tags
Change, Creative writing, poems, poetry, Principles, verse, writing
Staring like twisted iron railings
Rust bitten and chilled,
Stealing kisses from
A washed out Sun
Which hung with fickle deceit,
I held my ground
And principles that tore and cut
Like paper,
And were they worth what they
Were written on?
The view from my
Side of the road,
Once heavy thronged with
Vibrant promise,
Now ringing hollow
The shell of ghosts now gone,
Limping shadows in temperate climes –
The far side of the street,
The one we cursed with vitriol
And swore we’d never walk,
In slippered steps
Your feet now soundless fall,
As I still stare
My silent roar
The tears beneath your eyes.
