Age Of Cruelty.

Where careless call

the strands of time

and life no longer

bears a rhyme,

her hands which long

forgot the pen

can't take her back

to where and when.

 

No roaming now

or freedom found

within her mind

so tightly bound

beyond her window

now unknown,

where concrete crawls

no seeds are sown.

 

The fields outside

no more show green

for life has taken

from her dream,

shades of mist

dark cloud her eye.

No loved one near

to heed her cry.

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The fears of a country poet.

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Spinoza-Hinoza's picture

sometimes I think the world

sometimes I think the world has become a plastic holocaust of empty-headed nonsense. and love is something most people no longer know the meaning of. sad the world has come to this.

sweetwater's picture

Yes I totally agree, it won't

Yes I totally agree, it won't be long before love becomes non P C. like everything else.  Thank you for commenting it's much appreciated.  :-) Sue.

allets's picture

Solemnity In Verse

"...where concrete crawls/no seeds are sown..." Adored this line :S


 

 

sweetwater's picture

Thank you so much Alison, it

Thank you so much Alison, it is a fear of mine. Sue xx