A misted night
In frozen haze
Speaks to him
It knows his name
Streetlights twinkle
Above metal poles
Glistening ground
Meets his soul.
In solitude
With stars above
No cloud in sight
A fingered glove
A heart which beats
Steady, pained
Burning eyes
No solace gained.
Slowly
Without a dream
Without hope
The dawn it breathes
A steady flow
Of condensed air
To disappear
Without care.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: December 19th, 2025 03:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
Offline)
Comments3
Good write N. I don't care then!! Do you? lol.
couldnt give a toss lol
Doh! We're very helpful to others, you and I - not! lol.
lol
This poem sets the scene well with painted images of solitude and almost abandonment that fit the title and last line so well
as always much appreciated, thanking you
Most welcome
You not caring? You couldn't care less? No use asking us, you and I, to be sympathetic?! lol.
just have to get on with it, thats life lol
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