The days of warmth I still remember,
The moments of boredom and deep slumber,
The way we used to camp in a small number,
And the songs we sang around the dying ember.
Every laughter we shared all those years ago,
All those jokes we cracked every second or so,
And the meaningless quarrels that lasted a day or more
Flashed across my mind as I rocked to and fro.
The falling leaves swirled around me in the breeze
And carpeted the pathway with apparent ease.
The sight of this familiar place made me freeze;
This path full of memories made my eyebrows crease.
The golden leaves reflected the golden memories
Of playful quarrels over a few golden berries.
Towering above me were the once-happy trees,
Now depressed and empty, devoid of all cherries.
Carved upon the dead leaves were the forgotten days,
The days we spent together, now lightened by the sun's rays.
I remember the moment we fought to decide who pays
For the food and the pair of stuffed mocking-jays.
The lonely fall, with us separated is already half gone,
And the colourful leafy crowns can no longer adorn
Our broken friendship: It has left me depressingly forlorn,
And nothing seems as beautiful, not even the striking autumn dawn.
YOU ARE READING
Just ... A Bottle of Ink
PoetryThe words of the unwritten story Lay scattered across blank pages, Waiting to be picked up and chosen And pen the unwritten ages. But the pen pauses above the void, Hovering undecided in the air, Failing to choose of the swirling words And paint the...