An Election
All the lights in the city are dark
and the trees of the forest are bare,
we are left with as empty a chair
As could be leading. Here, an ark,
In a country of seekers, of green.
so now morning is coming to light
And we spoke to the blackness of night.
We hope to stay asleep and dream.
Copyright ©
Jake A. | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
