There is a scratch on the dinning room table
Made of beautifully polished wood
It was once perfect and unmarred
My chest swells and eyes fill with moisture
My soul aches as I remember what it used to be
Smooth and gentle
Yes, used to be... something else all together
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 04/21/2011 07:01AM by mg.
This little poem packs a punch, good job with this one, MG. Your writing improves with every attempt. Thanks for sharing it with us.
Les
Your comment surprised me Les, thank you!
MG
Well done. The table as metaphor for life is very effective. I look forward to more from you.
Joe
Thank you Joe for reading and commenting. I wasn't sure whether it would be effective and how it would sound. thanks you