By
M.A. Mercier in
Poetry |
Reads: 523 |
Likes: 12
A room , A story,
Every bench a character.
A room, A poem,
Every bench a verse.
A room, A game,
Every bench a player.
A room, A life,
Every bench a moment.
These benches, these chairs,
Every bench a home to two.
A sum, a product,
My little batch is 112 Read More...
Published on Jun 10,2020 12:21 PM
By
M.A. Mercier in
Poetry |
Reads: 264 |
Likes: 13
Once I stood, weighing my options,
On a diverge .
As if being obvious,
Then set out on the former.
This path took me to fear,
to love, to courage, to anger,
to death.
Once I stood, weighing my options,
On a diverge.
As if being obvious,
Then set out on the latter.
This path took Read More...
Published on Jun 10,2020 12:17 PM
It used to hang there, the towel of course. By there, I mean on the hanger of the door. We had but one of it and all five of us used the exact same one. It wasn’t washed until we went on a vacation, which was only once in a month. Every month, we used to go to the city to watch circus and it g Read More...
Published on Jun 10,2020 09:14 AM
