What's Left?
Outside is a grave yard of leaves,
the trees are skeletal and bare.
My heart is overflowing with sorrow
since the day you left without a care.
I live in a distressed house of memories,
which once echoed with love throughout,
but now it’s filled with echo’s of sadness
which has driven my happiness out.
The rooms have a thick carpet of misery
and the furnishings wreak with despair.
The curtains are depressed and shaded
and unhappiness festers in there.
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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