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| Open Poetry #9 |
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DiscordantNote New Member
since 2000-08-01
Posts 9Texas |
Scratched and battered furniture- Carpet, stained and worn. Sun comes through the broken blinds... To wake me every morn. Curtains tied by cobwebs... Everywhere there’s dust. Even on the picture there- Your sister took of ...Us. On the back the legend reads- April, eighty-two. In the photo, smiling kids... Who once were me and you. First you gave up hope in me, And then you lost your trust, Then you packed your bags to leave... Me, memories of...Us. Memories of better days- When you and I were young. Foolish things to pass the time, Back when we called it ...fun. I go through the motions now... But only, ‘cause I must. I’ll turn again to better times- Tonight, I’ll dream of... Us. |
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| © Copyright 2000 John Buchanan - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
Ah! The memories... how they touch us... Is it not amazing that at those moments that we have ourselves photographed, we do not realise how much we will think about those moments later on in life... now if only we could go back to that moment to relive it... but of course we can. By the power of our grey skull ... these memories are foever ... wonderful poetry... set me off in a time capsule ... regards, sudhir |
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Sunnyone Member Ascendant
since 2000-07-06
Posts 5334Staffordshire, England |
Hi DiscordantNote.... Oh, I like your style!!!! This one rolled off my tongue in such a smooth way......the words just flow..... Hope to read more of your work as it's Good!!! I have but one goal in life......... To make you smile! ~~ Sunny ~~ |
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