>"The Park Bench" Poets United Thursday Think Tank #51-time-out

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 It’s your mediocrity that filled rooms
and completed every yellowed page
The sound of your voice was
as coarse as your thoughts
Looking behind old closed doors …
they held answers
Windows opened when closed tightly,
paint accumulated in crevices,
years of wear, and weather beaten

Fountains contained no more water
Funnels were clogged from lack of use
Lyme built up visible from your caustic eyes
You had verified all minor complexities
held deep beneath the surface, like twisting
wire frames that no longer fit the picture

You never could’ve counted errors
of missed satisfaction,
or a dream of less perfect times
when you walked in those empty spaces
I can’t remember anything about you;
neither can the bench where you always sat
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2 responses to “>"The Park Bench" Poets United Thursday Think Tank #51-time-out

  1. Wow, Pamela. I had to read this one twice. It’s a bit harrowing, but excellent. Each image is another way of showing how this person was negative and lost. Brava!

    Richard

  2. They certainly were, Richard. Thanks much!

I appreciate all comments.

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