When there's no hole you can fill, just an emptiness overflowing.
When the air grows still and the balmy days of summer have settled into autumn's rhythm.
Facing winter's chill on your own utterly alone.
Abandoned on the roads my life turned I have no more use for this machine.
No meaning or purpose that binds me to the surface.
Just words that are twisted, thoughts maimed by bitterness.
Few earned what I freely give, less can be held as experience shifts gear and changes momentum.
I threw them from the train, left them to their own derailment.
Uncoupled from the desires and motivations that ever marked their existence.
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Author:
RDS (
Offline) - Published: January 22nd, 2021 17:02
- Comment from author about the poem: A few old thoughts on happiness and some of the toxic fabric that can irritate.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 24
- User favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses.
Offline)
Comments2
Good write RDS.
Hi, this is such a great poem and sad too. I love this line "I threw them from the train, left them to their own derailment".
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