Summer
It started when I first felt the wind,
Warm and gentle, on a summer night
The sky was clear
And then one flickered by;
I was the only one that missed it
The only one without a wish.
For hours I sat
Until the rocks beneath me
Started cutting into my skin
-I did not notice-
Waiting
Waiting for another wish
For another chance.
It never came,
Autumn
A few years went by
Before I felt it again:
A feeling that at the time,
I could not name.
I was in the middle of laughing
Surrounded by friends
That were not significant
When my smile dropped
And I couldnt understand why.
Who was I, not to be happy?
Who was I?
Winter
Mere months passed
-Without noticing-
It was as if nothing was,
Time no longer mattered
All I remember
Is the cold bite
Of bitter wind.
Slowing everything down,
To the
Tick,
Of
A
Second
Before it all came rushing back
All the shades of the rainbow
Now crimson
Spring
Little dew drops
Like glitter on closed buds,
Buds that were long due
To open
Laughter no longer carried
On the summer wind
The cold
Just a mere memory
Of horrors
The rainbow
Carrying a note:
"Spring isn't coming."
YOU ARE READING
Missing words
PoetryA mix of poetry, short stories and things that actually happened that I hope will make some people experience things that they normally would not. I want to make people see the world how I see it. Where colour is sound and a painting becomes life.
