deepundergroundpoetry.com
the malady
The malady
Knocks on my door
The hall is empty and bleak
Dark doors keeping secrets
I tape a spoon against a wine glass
Its plinks sings from room to room
Looks for and outlet
Settles like dust on book shelf
As residues of unspoken words
I hear children in the street jubilant voices
Pain subsides
Get out of my chair slowly, a battle won
Knocks on my door
The hall is empty and bleak
Dark doors keeping secrets
I tape a spoon against a wine glass
Its plinks sings from room to room
Looks for and outlet
Settles like dust on book shelf
As residues of unspoken words
I hear children in the street jubilant voices
Pain subsides
Get out of my chair slowly, a battle won
Published 4th Apr 2017
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4th Apr 2017 1:42pm
There is something about children's laughter that resonates so deeply within us. Much like 'a call of the wild' it reminds us of who we really are despite our age.
