Lines

Lines fall,

sweeping and crashing, evanescent

memories of lost times

Times and tomes, read and

remembered. Read

and forgotten

Notes littering the pavement, brittle

and fragile

collecting in a cup with rain

pounding softly

loudly clashing on the streets

the corners of homes

houses empty, full of

bitterness

Lines stop.

Breathing

Lost in time.

Reviews

[Dr.Pepper]

this is so much as a poem. But it's more like a portal, lost in time. The lines never stop, as we live and breathe, they will never stop. You paint a miraculous image in my head. So much so that the poem was a little short. But it is always hard to criticize art.
All I can say is, wow.

Stay strong, fellow soldier

[SilentVerses]

What words so brittle and timid flow forth from the withered heart of emotional despondency, sorrowful and melancholy a beauty lies within the depths of the net of movement and emotions lining the simplistic virtues of innocent words. Together on the canvas they form a bigger picture of loss and aching exasperation forever changing those who move on to leave behind the things we thought important so much goes on behind closed doors and those who walk in the deserted places find the words they daren't speak aloud, wonderful.