deepundergroundpoetry.com
...floating away
We quietly observe,
standing in this place,
awkward ugly moves
in the modern rat-race.
Same play, different day,
same sun shining,
no one ever told you
"everything dying."
We learn life in gravestone stories.
In moans, lone tomes, and wild bones
lay the scattered-old
brave bold glories.
Every dream shattered...
a light rose, shone
early dawn trills.
High, bright in the green grown
beams, streams,
and loafing hills, where
the fetter filled scenes
never mattered.
Published 14th Sep 2019
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Anonymous
- Edited 27th Dec 2019 12:45pm
14th Sep 2019 10:57am
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