the rose petals have withered
fallen to the floor
the mail still gathers
just inside the front door
the bed no longer gets made
towels laying in the tub
the image in the mirror
is of someone not loved
the house is untidy
a life thats torn apart
I search among the rubble
for pieces of my shattered heart
YOU ARE READING
Memory Graveyard
PoetryThis is a unique competition. You will want to be a part of this.
