1.
Cold, musty, and moth-smelling,
Like the room behind the eyes.
Curtains are shut,
Dawn hides behind,
As if ashamed, to show her face
To this weary traveller of the night.
2.
There are countless mornings,
But none are like this one.
Today is the day after
I closed the door for the final time, at last.
I will not come back again,
I know it.
3.
I rise to pull back the curtains,
And let the morning breath shine
Through me.
2 comments:
Mike my dear boy, glad to see you writing again. Let's meet up soon.
Hello I just entered before I have to leave to the airport, it's been very nice to meet you, if you want here is the site I told you about where I type some stuff and make good money (I work from home): here it is
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