Drawings

She and her friends

took permanent markers

to her blank, white door.

There they sketched

Their hearts out with ink.

Not pencil.

Wanting their work

to last forever.

 

She and her friends

drifted apart and

eventually became strangers

once more.

Those drawings stayed there

for many years until

her father covered them up

with a fresh coat of paint.

 

When I walk past,

I sometimes stop and stare,

seeing them.

They wait there, still visible,

for their creators to return.

Author's Note

The drawings in the poem are actual drawings. My sister and her past friends so many years ago drew in permanent marker on her white door. My dad got fed up this past year and painted her door a new shade of white. Even though he painted over them, the drawings are still very much visible.

The past never disappears.

Reviews

[Inyourshadow]

Lol my youngest daughter and her friends have done this to her bedroom door, silly characters like dinosaurs and silly faces and I often look at them and smile because they are so cute. Love the poem shame they drifted apart and as for the pictures being painted over I never will. Keep em' coming