maanantai 28. elokuuta 2023

ON THE TWO HUNDREDTH AND THIRTY-SEVENTH DAY OF THE YEAR

The incessant rain keeps
beating on the roof as
the minutes keep ticking
away, the day I slept dying,
its unlived hours sent
to rest among forgotten
days, unkempt graves
of memories, forged
with a failing hand
when the future was
to be made - and was
made, into this.

28.08.2023


#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse

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