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JoBarbPoems
Like a dried out pen, you lay before me.     Perhaps you served a purpose once,     back in the days     where leaves still blew     through these Cadillac-filled streets. Vanished and forgotten, like a goldfish in a bowl without food.       You'll starve eventually       from the poverty of your mood. Like a torn photograph, the image of you is scratched, incomplete, a deflated soccer ball lying somewhere in the street.              A dried out pen         can write no more,            but it does not negate              the works it wrote                       once before.
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Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC
Finding Purpose
Like a dried out pen, you lay before me.     Perhaps you served a purpose once,     back in the days     where leaves still blew     through these Cadillac-filled streets. Vanished and forgotten, like a goldfish in a bowl without food.       You'll starve eventually       from the poverty of your mood. Like a torn photograph, the image of you is scratched, incomplete, a deflated soccer ball lying somewhere in the street.              A dried out pen         can write no more,            but it does not negate              the works it wrote                       once before.
Feedback? Comments? I had trouble finding a good ending.
#purpose#pen#life#work#imagery#cadillac#discovery
JoBarb
Written by
JoBarb
26/F
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC
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