Heavy
Out of the depths
The bottomless pit
Eyes squinting
Scraggly beard
What day is it…
Bills piled high
Along with the dishes
Lawn getting long
Loved ones neglected
Faceless oppressor
Air slowly leaving
Until there’s nothing left
But a fragment
A memory
A figment of the imagination
Once was laughter
Now silence
The kind that cuts like a dull blade
Slowly and poorly
Life like shattered glass
A jigsaw puzzle never to be reclaimed
Foggy haze that surrounds
Never lifting
No reprieve
Heavy
Copyright © Richard Thistle | Year Posted 2014
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