Rust
I am a ruined house
With a rusty fence,
So many phantoms reside resting recklessly,
A clock on the mantelpiece that won't work. It's stuck staring at me,
Tick………,
The wallpaper is crumbling and fading away like my miserable memories.
It doesn't seem real even though it is.
Dreamy, dreary , dread , dead.
But the fire is still working
Though everything is cold
And almost dead.
Somehow it is never always cold,
Flames auburn and assured.
I fall in love,
When the wind
Clatters and chatters the weary windows.
When you knocked on the tedious door,
I fell in love with you,
You seemed full of halo light,
Full of sparks
Like the 4th of July,
Your words full of life,
You could make thousands of people alive.
But I can't untarnish the fence,
Can't paint the walls crimson.
But your eyes think,
I'm beautiful,
Life is fleeting and transient,
So, I started painting the panelled wooden house crimson.
You can't paint oak crimson.
It's ruining me,
I can't fall in love.
Copyright © Anne Winter | Year Posted 2025
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