climbing the ladder, packed with stones in my pockets
sweating in the sun, reaching for the cracks in the facade
press it in between broken bricks, dry pipes, dead sockets
know of the fragile basement, am tired of the charade
my body worn from effort, still marble floors are dirtied with dust
dull tapestry long out of style and broken glass for windows
visitors come no more, all doors' hinges thick with rust
how long until the full collapse only the next stormcloud knows
YOU ARE READING
paper poetry II
PoetryCalliope, Erato, Euterpe A little collection of rhymes and poems for you to read if you like. The collection is always growing. The refrenced books, music or films aren't mine, but inspirational. Second poetry book of my paper poetry.
