Prior to the Afterlife
The ceiling sparkled;
I saw the big dipper, then the little one.
The painters needed a bigger tip for their creative execution.
Without a warning to prepare, a requiem played.
The symphony corned all aspects of a so-called classic; muffled screams, vulgar tongues and your tears –
Silence doesn’t come fast and
I begged for forgiveness and solidarity whilst connecting the dots of Orion.
Copyright © Keely Breen | Year Posted 2024
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