this poem is yet to be titled...

 

Still waiting

Still standing at the platform

Gazing down at the calloused gravel

Silently waiting to conform

 

There are no whistles amongst the thistles

No whitened carousel of floating friends

 

Will it come around the bend?

 

Shall the sun stay waiting kindling to set?

Or maybe I should just...

Forget

Forgive

Forever

 

Still no plumes to arouse the senses

Just miles of ungoverned fences

 

Yes,

Maybe I should just

 Forget.

 

Do not fret

It will be as if we never met....

Reviews

[Spilled Her Guts in Cur..]

"No whitened carousel of floating friends"

I really like how that line sounds.

Great poem. Good work!