Sad StreetsA Poem by L.M.Warde
Crimson droplets fluttering like birds drifting on a breeze,
Set loose from veins they usher him to his back from on his knees. Such felicitous fowl floating like memories by and by, Giving piece to the foolish nomad as he slowly shuts each eye. The wind no longer whispers in his weather beaten ear, Or perhaps he's simply too far gone to think that he will hear. the sweet and subtle melodies of the life he wished he had, Perhaps if it had come to him, life would not have been so bad. Withering away on the unkempt street, made cold by the Autumn embrace, Through eyelids closed, a single tear slips down his face. He never knew of family, of love unlike all others. He'll never know what it means to be loved by a father, mother, or brothers. There was no-one there this day, none by his side who cared. Forgotten by his addict mother, unloved and unprepared. Now stuck down he fades away, clutched by that dark embrace, Never knowing the good of things, of better times, of joy or his rightful place. I weep for him, that broken man, who died alone today. Where none would stand and help him up to make it on his way. I hang my head ashamed, disgraced by the weakness of my heart, His happy life is over, long before he saw it start. © 2014 L.M.WardeAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorL.M.WardeKSAboutIn a simple explanation: I am a rather quiet individual who strongly enjoys telling stories, be them a short narrative at a party or get together, or a long chapter-by-chapter telling through .. more..Writing
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