Gone

A poem from several years ago

Gone is the mourning dove,

in his tree,

gone are the flowers,

blossoms, and bees.

 

Gone is the butterfly,

on my window-pane,

everything's dreary now,

dark, and plain.

 

Gone is the young foal,

that resided on a grassy knoll,

his hooves he'd kick up,

black and tiny,

as clumps of coal,

it's something I miss,

on my daily stroll.

 

Gone are the children,

I held so near,

their laughter so dear,

it was music to my ears!

Oh, them, how I long to hear!

 

 

Gone are my good friends,

who were really there

to the end,

same goes for my kin.

 

Gone is my love,

gone just like

the mourning dove,

we simply went together,

like a hand and a glove.

 

Gone is the earth,

nothing exists,

not even my birth.

Gone, gone, gone,

is the world's worth!

Reviews

[D. Pesek]

This one is also well written, I liked the flow of this poem.