Melancholy

Not about anything in particular, you can make it what you want.

I woke this morning 

a pile of bones 

my sockets empty 

ears missing 

lips no more. 

When I moved

I could feel the cob-

webs stretch and

restrict my 

knobby fingers. 

I tried to talk to

see if I could 

but my jaw dropped

not in awe or fear 

I didn't hear the

rattle as its fell 

and hung like a 

collar around my

neck.  

I began to ponder

the life of a Skelton. 

The jobs I could 

have, what family

would think. 

I began to wonder

where my life began

and when it ended. 

Was I real, or stuck

in a dream. 

I began to consider

staying like this

laying here wasn't

so bad. Rather

enjoyable. 

Being a pile of bones. 

Reviews

[@zeewhykay]

Being a pile of bones
Creepy and calculated, melancholic, yet not dreadful, and straight to the point.
"where my life began, and when it ended."
A question most of us will be left to answer in the cobwebs of time.

Marvelous !

[Kathrine Rethorn]

Thank you!

[Chris A Jones]

Very creative. Never really considered describing melancholy as a pile of bones. It works though! Thanks for sharing.

[Kathrine Rethorn]

Neither did I! I was given a picture of a Skelton and told to write a poem. Thank you for the visit!

[Chris A Jones]

Okay. You are so very welcome of course.