The End of September Night
A youth's mistake
Almost to the midnight
Dark blue sky
Why cry
I saw the photo of you
A small soul
Tender and kind
My eyes are sored
It's the end of September night
Do I miss you
or
The time you were in my life
I cried
Never I bought you a bed
Nor the best meal that you could have
Time is a funny thing
Same as the human mind
I miss you
Not how I planned
You came into my mind
Like the wind of the night
It's love
It's guilt
It's the end of September night
I lay on the new bed
Southern states have no falling leafs
A thick duvet covered me
I was sweating
In this end of September night
The duvet
Soft, kind, light
I hugged myself
padded my shoulder
wiped my tear
" It's ok."
" It will pass."
The only true comfort an adult can have
Is the lie we tell ourselves.
About the Creator
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Midnight
60 seconds… 59 seconds… Time was slipping through his fingers, though he clawed at the falling grains of sand, he could not stop the hourglass from flowing. Around him, the silence was deafening. He had taken over every screen in the command centre, putting the terrible seconds before the terrified eyes of his friends and comrades.
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Snacktime Sonata Challenge Winners
Well, your Snacktime Sonatas made us hungry, and that’s about the highest compliment we have. Food — taste, smell, sensation — is a powerful conduit to the past, to memories pleasurable and painful and sometimes bittersweet, a mixture of comfort and challenge. Congratulations to Penny Fuller for Sativa — it’s a first win for Penny — a hymn to the “secret, unbounded/freedoms” of fresh peas in the pod. The narrative voice of the poem doesn’t really want to be outside, but finds joy in the green things of the earth; this is a lovely work of resilience.
By Vocal Team7 days ago in Resources
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