Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Locked and rusted

The tears were locked and not dried ,

The fears were beneath a pile of smiles,

The cries were muted and not lost 

The miles were all in the mind .

 

Agony and helplessness are wedded in bliss

Grief and a laugh are a paradox in this 

neighbours seem asleep 

darkness seems awake .

 

Grief is at the doorstep ,prepped in finery 

open the rusted locks of the revelry 

let the salted rivers flow in all it glory 

 

 

◄ Gardens of reality

Broken shells ►

Comments

ramy

Thu 17th Aug 2017 06:52

Thank you for writing this.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message