Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 7
I look at my wall,
It speaks no colour.
Bare,
Empty,
Since the season of summer.

Your soul left,
And I,
Left too.
But an idea
Came to me,
One lazy afternoon.

I looked at my supplies,
That were almost decaying.
I opened them gently,
And soon began painting.

Your favourite colours cascading
Yellow, green and blue.
The wall began drying,
As my tears did too.

For this mural,
Is sacred,
And I,
Am now feeling.
As another sun rises,
My heart welcomes healing.
This poem is a story poem about healing from a loss and making a beautiful memory of that person. I hope you all enjoy !
Chelsea Quigley
Written by
Chelsea Quigley  21/F/Waterford
(21/F/Waterford)   
452
   Scarlet McCall and Aishu
Please log in to view and add comments on poems