When the wind cries
Where will we all go?
Dry eyes and cold teeth
Is all we'll be left with.
Flying shutters and vibrating panes
Seeping dust into the lungs.
Frost in creases,
Iced over fog.
Shining leaves and dark skies.
The rush of dread;
The tears of death,
Nippy hands and dry frowns.
When the wind ceases
The flesh leaves us too,
Revealing cracked bones and lost hope.
Left in the dark,
In our broken home,
Six feet underground;
With nowhere we can hope to go.
YOU ARE READING
~Original Poems~
PoetryUnprofessional original poems about anything I want to write about. Updated anytime I feel the obligation and inspiration to write. Usually once every month I'd say... Hope you very much enjoy, and I thank you endlessly. (!!None of the images shown...
