A trip out would be nice occasionally.

Another lost and leaden

hour drags itself along,

sighing at the length of

an ageing day.

 

Wearying hands crawl

imperceptibly around

the hours, as the clock

ticks relentlessly on.

 

Resigned: my gaze

confirms yet another

day, when I am forgotten,

 

left behind the glass

looking on. Looking out.

And I long to cry

please…

 

Take me with you.

© sweetwater 2022
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critique and comments welcome.
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Guaj

I see an old person in a care home, such soul destroying places. You sum how they must feel very well.
Also reminds me of how I felt during lockdown on days when nobody called.

belcanto

Love this metaphor comparing self to clock. So effective and beautifully done Sue! Who’s giving out Great Reads these days, huh? bel

stormwolf

A very poignant poem full of hurt and longing. My one criticism would be the title. To me a poem starts with a good title and this one is too simple for the rest of the poem. Something shorter maybe even one word say “forgotten” or one that is a play on words for instance ‘pain behind the panes’ I can relate so much. My eldest son went to Lapland for Christmas a few years ago. He has plenty money and he knew that from the time he was born, he heard me say my dream would be Christmas in… Read more »

Last edited 6 days ago by stormwolf
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