Empty
July 14, 2019
The golden old rocker squeaks.
old man gliding up and down.
His knees of eternal screech.
No more time to be the clown.
In decades past there was always a plan.
No reason to write them up.
Memories never filled the cup.
Feeling helpless and void of command.
He creaks.
Floorboards squeak.
Why let go?
Who’s to know?
Empty , a creaky fridge door.
Empty , always wanting more.
Empty , a burned out light.
Emoty , was it ever right?
0 snaps·5 views
View on Power Poetry →