Flowers Whither Read Count : 145

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

The coffee in my cup steams as I watch the sunrise and the disappearing moon gleams and I watch with bright eyes with the book in my lap, I'm on the ocean floor but in reality I'm just waking through a door off to work not time for play not time for the park I'll work all day so I get home the sun has set holding on to my hope it's all I've got left. But is this truly hope? Lying in bed, worrying, staring at my ceiling till early birds sing their daily cry and awaken me from a light sleep. I track the same routine again and again with little room for diversity. And so the gleam disapears, and the flowers I once cared to take care of whither.

Comments

  • Maurice  Beres

    Maurice Beres

    Poiniant 🦋🦋🦋🦋

    Jan 31, 2019

Log Out?

Are you sure you want to log out?