A Forgotten Skeleton
the dream painted itself sad ashen grey
a parched desert where rain never falls
this dark metaphor in her barren heart
loneliness whispering of love yet to call
bones of long lost hope on the ground
amid sands of uncountable empty years
she picked up the skull bleached white
all that remained of an old mossy steer
wondering if that would be her destiny
to wander until life's hourglass ran dry
becoming a forgotten, lost skeleton
eroded by day
and
ignored
by
night's
sky
Copyright © John Gilman | Year Posted 2022
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