The Wxrds

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

poetry for thought

Once upon a dream,

A day,

A night,

The rain, persisted

On the windowpane

 

They sat on their

Bed, a small, unmade,

Resting place

Like the ground

For the dead

 

On their own they

Sat, the empty surrounds

And collapses

The boiler next door,

Creaks

 

They thought they,

Were alone, they said,

To who? That was the point

Alone with no one

Alone with them

 

A stream of thoughts into,

Words, of a kind

Nature, that blew

Them away,

Into…

 

A poem not quite finished,

A song not quite sung,

A story not quite cliché enough,

They hummed in approval,

The words,

Were done. 


Submitted: September 17, 2015

© Copyright 2022 soranena. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:

Comments

Keke Serene

This was interesting, a little confusing at first but after another read it has a nice ring to it. It seems kind of sinister, with your word choice ~ which gives this an interesting feel that I, for one, like.
Happy writing!And please check out my work if you ever get the chance! :D
xxx starsthatfellonrandumgurlatnite

Thu, September 17th, 2015 4:53pm

Author
Reply

I've heard that a lot! Thank you so much though :)

Thu, September 17th, 2015 12:20pm

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