Posted in Life, Loss, Time

Forgotten

 

One grey day on the Metro line

I looked upon an old past time.

Sitting in the middle of yesterday

a carousel that cannot play.

Bracing itself through the pouring rain

the tired horses show their pain.

Eroded down to their very core

their porcelain skins are no more.

Coarse are their once pristine petals

destined for a sea of metal.

Author:

I like to think I'm a story teller. I love stories. I believe the world is filled with stories just waiting to be told and learned. I enjoy travelling down the road less travelled, with my iPhone and journal in each hand. Here you'll find all my poetic musings... Enjoy!

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