The Still Bleak Morrow
The wind blew and lighting bugs flew
In on a warm summer night undue.
A man mutely sitting on the edge
Of a rocky ledge
Mulls over of days gone by
Like a river gone dry
Knitting the feelings of the unkind
Past in his mind
Giving into sullen sorrow.
Maybe it'll change tomorrow.
Nevermore will time be leaden
With bleakness, but only by death's end.
9/1/2019
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.
