There's a fog, it swirls around
clouding everything.
I'm a memory, clamped in its jaws,
just waiting for eternity to end,
or to send some company to my door.
There's a fog
blanketing my house.
If you leave
you never come back,
I've seen too many people
walk out of my life, into that cloud
waving goodbye,
to never return.
All I'm left
is a silent memory of the world outside
and a tear slowly falling from my eye.
In days, distant,
I saw that distinct fog
drifting in. It ate everything.
Devouring all that was sitting
between the horizon and me.
There were trees back then,
flowers grew and birds flew
way back when. Now there is just grey.
I saw it devastating the life I knew,
as it slowly crept up my street.
And then it stopped,
as it had my house in its teeth.
It held its state, it laid in wait,
I could hear it breathing
through the roof slates.
And now it sits,
this immovable cloud.
the wind I've heard roaring loud,
but the grey stain barely sways,
it has anchored itself in place,
A place it now stays
letting nothing in or out
apart from a few stray sun rays
and the sight
of the moon on good days.
There are times when
I can shine a light.
When my batteries are charged
I can enter the cloud,
like battling through thick cloying night.
On these rare occasions,
I venture out,
to find some life. To feel alive
for a few ticks of time.
Always checking my battery,
for if it runs out entirely
the fog will surely devour me.
There is a fog,
it holds me close.
Never letting go,
Never letting anyone through.
It seldom allows
happiness into my room,
It just clouds this place
in its thick grey air.
I look longingly
through windows
in despair,
expecting a view,
but all I see
is more of this gloom
consuming
what I once knew.
Thanks for reading
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Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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