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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about loneliness described in the metaphors of an abandoned building & winter.

Submitted: March 10, 2017

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Submitted: March 10, 2017



It’s all dark and cold.

There are only a few cars in the nearly vacant parking lot.

This old building is shutting down again.

The dust is collecting, the heater is broken.

The wind blows through windows, hollow and barren.

It smells like death, it looks like depression, it tastes like mold.

It sounds like ancient organs.

It feels like death has wrapped its claws around the place once again.

It’s full of fatigue.

The coals burn with anger.

The rain leaks through the roof.

It’s caving in again.

The ghosts are bored, the people are scared.

The demons are prowling, the angels have dropped their swords.

It’s a dead place again . . . the fire has gone out.

It will be stuck in this place until the winter has passed,

And it has found the strength to fight again.

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