Empty Chair 12.20.09

2 Comments

Tags:
  • Death

    Empty Chair 12.20.09

    Empty Chair 12.20.09

     

    Vase surrounded with colourless petal

    Fallen from long-wilted bloom

    Left to rest where they settle

    No longer brightening darkened room.

     

    Dust specks dance on slithered light

    Curtains hide world outside

    Life goes on but out of sight

    Because within me something’s died.

     

    Room is void of your breath

    A glance across but you’re not there

    Alone to live with your death

    Eyes resting upon your empty chair.

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    Mareann commented on Empty Chair 12.20.09

    12-20-2009

    Excellent poem, written and expressed well.. Thanks for sharing.. Mary
    Reply to Comment

    Teardrops commented on Empty Chair 12.20.09

    12-20-2009

    the death of love now one gets used to be it a hundred years from now great poem
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

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