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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

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 9/1/2019 11:50:00 PM
Just how I feel these days. Hugs
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Date: 9/1/2019 10:13:00 PM
Pure optimism in this line, Eve: "Maybe it'll change tomorrow." - We all hope this when we are down.
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