It Was Nothing, You Said.

Everything means nothing you said
Buildings turn gray, so does the day
Money is green, fingers burn mean
Blood runs away from you red,
Once a child smiled at the trees forest of dreams were read
Lines on page, antiques show their age, Time is so dead,
Come visit us soon we implore once more 'ere we cease
Deep satin as Night, sapphire fire for a Light release
All your thought, the moment is nought but it is
This and no more, go on implore, do not be, afraid ?
Everything is, Nothing you said . . .





Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 514 times
Written on 2017-04-24 at 15:58

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text