Through time's ghosts, a ghost town.A Poem by andrew mitchell
Through the avenues of time
walls crumbling in decay house the memories fading that flickers weak light in remembrance. Hearing the wind of life howl rattling rusty thoughts that held life's pages the hands that delivered break the promise, letting go... while a beacon scans over cemetery grounds waves caress the rocks in waiting.
© 2019 andrew mitchellReviews
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13 Reviews Added on October 14, 2019 Last Updated on October 14, 2019 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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