embers dying at the grate
cobwebs lining the corners like lace
the air is musty and filled with loneliness
and memories i can't seem to erase.
i pick up my briefcase
and wander inside
into a cavity of memoirs
that are clawing my mind.
i discover photos
hidden behind the mantelpiece
faded to grey
the comfort of the sight putting me at ease.
a layer of dust on the belongings of my desk
i spot an old manuscript
forgotten words, forgotten efforts
it lays in a crypt.
i settle on the futon
with a moth eaten photo album
recalling late times
of memories random.
YOU ARE READING
Words From The Soul 🌺
Poesía"The ink spilled from the pen, leaving me with a page full of words and my thoughts" P.S - ALL these poems are mine and I'd appreciate you not copying them as I've worked really hard I love y'all <3 - krissyloveswriting
