(no subject)
I wrote a poem for my english class. Unfortunately we had to size it down into three, four lined, stanzas. It was originally two pages.
Chimney smoke billows, winds scream around my window.
New frost holds tight the grass while the sun stood still.
Trees are naked and sick beneath the snow, the fresh life of premature buds having yet to wake,
Both desperately await a hidden sun,
Dark clouds pull the sky closer, creating a shield against me,
Snow-trodden tracks leading from a broken home,
I walked, stealing the days of my childhood, trying to get away.
These memories covered a forgotton home.
A house is left as a testament to an old addiction,
my concern thrown aside like a last cigarette
It'll light the fire to consume what's left behind, though, it's useless.
Ten years past and still no warmth in what was once a home..
A child once sat in this room, destroyed.
A room who's walls have burned and fallen for the last time.
....yeah.
Chimney smoke billows, winds scream around my window.
New frost holds tight the grass while the sun stood still.
Trees are naked and sick beneath the snow, the fresh life of premature buds having yet to wake,
Both desperately await a hidden sun,
Dark clouds pull the sky closer, creating a shield against me,
Snow-trodden tracks leading from a broken home,
I walked, stealing the days of my childhood, trying to get away.
These memories covered a forgotton home.
A house is left as a testament to an old addiction,
my concern thrown aside like a last cigarette
It'll light the fire to consume what's left behind, though, it's useless.
Ten years past and still no warmth in what was once a home..
A child once sat in this room, destroyed.
A room who's walls have burned and fallen for the last time.
....yeah.