There are graveyards of people who are alive,
One of them is mine,
Showered with wreaths of lies,
Visited by mockingbirds who sing a colorless lament of bliss now unknown
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Author:
Veronica Achlys (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 9th, 2024 10:49
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments3
Your loss of love symbolized as a graveyard. Quite emphatically. A very gripping poem. Loved it - Phil A.
I'm with mendedfences on this
Keep coming back for another look
It's unique And thought provoking
Thoroughly enjoyed
Thank you
A strong piece of brevity. A treacherous lover now confined to the graveyard of memories. Fabulous imagery.
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