deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Open Forest
Dead silver. Silver's sliver. A sliver of hope.
The hope that I have when I stare at your dark emotionless walls, yet there lies in between the dearest color of bittersweet envy,
The color for the ones I love and adore and abhor.
For what purpose might I stare at your beauty?
And for what life might I lead?
Shall I huddle in a corner of cobblestone reeds?
My life reflects my window as shall it be.
But neither sky, nor wall, nor hill, nor tree; could shake my dead silver positivity
The hope that I have when I stare at your dark emotionless walls, yet there lies in between the dearest color of bittersweet envy,
The color for the ones I love and adore and abhor.
For what purpose might I stare at your beauty?
And for what life might I lead?
Shall I huddle in a corner of cobblestone reeds?
My life reflects my window as shall it be.
But neither sky, nor wall, nor hill, nor tree; could shake my dead silver positivity
Published 30th Dec 2021
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