The day poetry diedA Poem by willweb
This is the day that poetry died…
Verses exhaled their final breath
on a noisy highway leading nowhere
Litter strewn curbs collect the remnants
of the few lines that were left in my head
and I wave as I pass, fighting the tears
I know do not matter
Broken ball points leaking non rhyming ink
fill the pocket of my new white shirt
leaving behind permanent stains of what I used to be
Darkened blots in unrecognizable shapes
you wouldn’t guess if lying on a couch
calling every one of your dreams a lie
in stoic echoes of delusional voices
Stanzas stacked in casket formation,
less the satin centers and comfort
promised for eternity, fall like weakened
dominoes at the slightest creative thought
crashing into a pile of illegible splintered nonsense
Yes, this is the day that poetry died
and sadly it has taken me with it…
© 2015 willwebReviews
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Added on January 15, 2015Last Updated on January 15, 2015 AuthorwillwebTXAboutHi, I am willweb. Maybe you remember me and maybe you don't. I have been writing here on and off for years. I pop in and write and read and comment and make friends and learn new things. I enjoy maki.. more..Writing
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