Naive sadness
the thought that breaks the poor silence is dimly seen
rushing ease
the smile of memories remains
and the past
sometimes they leave too deep traces
the clouds brought the melancholy close
rusty rain whispers lonely
and the trodden leaves are returning to the ground
autumn is still traveling down the same route
the collapsing home is perched atop a tranquil river
the elderly guy is alone
and sitting on a bench
clutching his tattered coat to his chest
staring off into the distance
when a horse enters the field from behind some sad-looking trees
looking to see who is riding it
the elder man
the sunset
About the Creator
🎵Daddy's Song...🎵(Fictional Poetry)
As I lie on the canvas, bloodied and bruised from my opponent, my favorite childhood song, "Ask Me in December," beckons to me from the old victrola in the corner of my heart, telling me to get up and duel once more. It's lyrics immediately breathe renewed hope and life into my spirit while successfully ignoring my pleas to retreat into the corner so that I may tend to my broken heart and badly rug-burned praying-knees.
By Tiffany Gordon 3 days ago in Poets
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