Breath upon
The windows pane
Frosted glass
Leaves a stain
That slowly fades
Its moisture dried
Like burning tears
That once were cried.
The traffics noise
A mere drone
Barricaded moments
Without home
Left like helpless
Children lost
His thoughts calculate
The bitter cost.
For sale sign
Upon the lawn
Silence drops
A bitter coin
Into the slot
Of random life
No more children
Or a wife.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: June 20th, 2026 04:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
Offline)
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