Forgotten
In a dark neglected cornerWhere long forgotten memories roam
There stands a crumbling testament:
A house –
Once called a home.
A testament to ages past
To waxing, waning sun and moon;
A stooping crouching testament
That sings
To history's tune.
Here in this spent and silent realm
Reflections rule with rampant time
Rooms once filled with joy and laughter
Now weep
With dust and grime.
Where proudly once a fire blazed
And leapt with warmth and playful mirth
A rubbled breast makes silent shrine
Now filled
With layered earth.
Where living beams of solid oak
That witnessed sounds of infant crying
Now lie infested – torn by worms:
Hollow
Rotten, dying.
While once manicured and tended lawns
Are now chocked and thickly brambled.
Here once bright flowers – free to roam –
On this
Canvas rambled.
But now devoid of children's cries
And the sounds of generations
The empty shell in silence stands
Without
Expectations.
Poetry by Steve Hagget
Read 1028 times
Written on 2007-01-13 at 12:57
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Zoya Zaidi |