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The windows were all foggy
From the cold winter night
The tree leaves were drenched
The chirping of the birds died
The flowers refused to bloom
The wind signaled the storm
And I sat there waiting quietly
Adoring the beauty in simplicity
It's been almost seventeen years
My patience faded away like tears
My door mat welcomed strangers
They never ever stayed long there
Quick as lightening I packed away
The unnecessary souvenirs
As I held the key to the locked box
I whispered
"You will be far more safer in here"
L.S
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YOU ARE READING
DESOLATE
Poetry·•·°·•·°·•· De·so·late So many things could describe my poetry. It is a combination of bliss and bittersweet. One may describe it as the divine taste of strawberries. With a slight twist of sour cherries. You may have it dipped in chocolate with...
