An empty room, a bookshelf filled with dust
Billowing curtains, crumpled sheets, a slept-in-bed
A breeze rustling dead leaves on the floor, the dust swirling
The sunlight streaming through the cracked glass
Old love letters—tear streaked and well-worn
Dried rose petals, cracked photo frames
A chair rocking alone in the breeze
A shattered mirror, a book--its yellowed pages fluttering
Wisps of memories surrounding the room
Footprints in the dust, walking out the door....
6 comments:
its a really good piece..love the dried rose petals..and footprints in dust.. a really amazing metaphor for lost love.. and footprints in the dust are a possibility that when the dust blows away.. those footprints will be erased n then there will be new footprints there :D
i love ur poem.. shan ur superb :D
could be fatty...and it also could mean that those footprints, walking towards the door could mean that enough is enough, walk away before its too late...
thanks darling ...
ok..this time, i am really swooning!! i would have asked you out had i been a guy. :D a play with words and emotions like this is a rare find...but also a very special gift. cherish it xxx
i know there would be sad memories behind your inspiration...part fiction, part fact also. but look at the bright side...you have a devoted fan now :D ME!!!
its clear mirror image of the thoughts..well-presented,intense..iloved this more...dont know why....both r really nice .....but this one is more discriptive ...in the sense no one is there in the poem..but jus memories...of togetherness, memories of the past...........mind-blowing
wow wow wow , fr ure poem ,it feels so much like wen im around u wen im reading ure blog ..... about the footprints .... enuf is enuf then dnt ponder,lol so u can make new footprints
ps: u stii keep roses in boks dnt u:P
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