When the gears stop turning
And the words run out
When the sun won't rise
Through the engine's smoke
When we leave behind
The mess we've made
For others to make sense of
When the paper crumbles
And the words fade away
When the dust has settled
On the empty space
When we return to see
How quiet it's become
Where we once poured our hearts out
When a flower starts blooming
An idea in the dark
When the walls start crumbling
And the light returns
When we're gone and forgotten
But our work's still there
To finally be reimagined
You know
Some things need time
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryA bunch of my random thoughts put into nice words. 🌠 (Most of them don't rhyme)
