"tead" poems
Rusted hinges creak. A mourning, musty groan.
A hollow echo in a house once known.
For laughter's chime & footsteps light n' free.
Now just a shell, a haunting memory
Sunlight struggles through dust laden panes.
Illuminating cobwebs, remnants of bygone rains
Each chipped, flaking wall a silent plea.
A yearning for the life that used to be.
I tead with reverence on creaking floorboards worn
Imagining the stories in this place forlorn
The faded paint, a canvas cracked n' dim
Holds whispers of love that used to be brim.
Slowly, tools in hand, I break the mournful spell
New life I bring, A future yet to dwell.
Hammer strikes meet chisel's tap.
A symphony of hope, dispelling sorrow's trap.
Ignored or words to adorn. May fade like soundless wind.
Invisible, lyrics to be hushed. "A Ghost Story"
Jun 10, 2024
Jun 10, 2024 at 11:53 PM UTC