poetry

Lights

P1000523 (2)Left only in the company

Of slithers of light along the wall,

Drawing harsh, poetic lines

Across my work.

What happened to the day?

At what point did the sun give in

Laying waste to all I’ve written?

What happened to my words?

When did they too, abandon me

Leaving me like a shadow in the dark

Unseen and reluctantly accepted?

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