A Storm Walk Home

Fresh cut grass in the graveyard

Second hand drizzle in my eyes

Quarter moon giving me a sign

Opening up the path, reminding me

 

Bright car lights steal my night vision

Driving me into absolute black

Growing storm turn rivers and rush my shoes

Bridge rattles, train passes, windows bright

 

Self-doubt tears, wanted tugged strings

Expected, but still, disappointed shrugs

By this time next week, she said

I’m sat like a side salad, frown grown and discontent

 

Song company assists my process

Shout it...loud! Release this ache

Ripped up, shot at, run ragged

Rest, recoup, rearrange, and restart

 

Reviews

[Stonewall]

The imagery is great, you know you've nailed that when every line is telling a lot more than just the sum of its parts. Nice work.

[Jane Doe]

This is some truly great writing. Again, so descriptive and vivid. Well done!

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

I like how the storm imagery mirrors that of the feelings of the narrator. The shattered effect of the words used leads me to feel each line like a bolt of lightning. Nice effect. Great write. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha

[James K. Blaylock]

Man, I really dug this piece. Keep up the great writes.

jkb

[Caydie Hall]

im not exactly sure what youre trying to say here but it sounds like the speaker is trying to recover from an incident, a death, a storm inside themselves.. i could be completely wrong. but with your word choice i can really hear whats happening around them bravo. i like storms