Angela-a

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It  lies in the dark

Untouched

Rusted

But hidden

 

It once made art

Left streams of color in its wake

Painting with gentle strokes 

And blazing it’s trail 

 

It once was a friend 

I cannot deny my yearning

I dream of its artwork

While its remnants go on burning

  • Author: Angela-a (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 15th, 2021 02:44
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views:
  • User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.

Comments2

  • orchidee

    Fantastic title there! lol.

  • L. B. Mek

    realisation's: painful curse, of a waning
    imagination;
    a mourning for the loss
    of what we, once
    considered a limitless, part of ourselves...
    (a great write! thanks for sharing)
    'There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
    The earth, and every common sight,
    To me did seem
    Apparelled in celestial light,
    The glory and the freshness of a dream.
    It is not now as it hath been of yore;--
    Turn wheresoe'er I may,
    By night or day,
    The things which I have seen I now can see no more.'

    'Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
    Where is it now, the glory and the dream?'
    from 'Ode, Intimations of Immortality'
    by the great Wordsworth:
    ( https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-34653 )
    a poem, he wrote decades before his death
    but part of a collection, he insured
    would only be published, posthumously - tellingly...'

    • Angela-a

      Thank you for this share!! I am always excited to hear other writers reflections



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