Forgotten

Sunday experimentation rewrote an old poem and put it to video.

Advertisements

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.