\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2319340-Bones-In-The-Field
Item Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Reference · #2319340
A short poem about the impossibility of moving on and how that leads to one's death.
The story starts,
much the same as they all do.
A soft blue sky, a brown field.
Bones scattered everywhere.
“Six months dead”, the coroner utters.
Somwhere near, a tear falls from the blue sky.
The field does not care.
It`s been two long years.
The tear keeps falling. The body keeps decaying.
Still, the field does not care.
A post mortem is conducted.
A scavenged throath, dirt in alveoli.
Where to? To where it all started.
Under a brown field, the remains where laid,
ten years down they sit.
I still love you, I confess in the quiet of death.
A quick look to bones mawled. A blank face.
I keep dying in the brown field.
He still does not care.
© Copyright 2024 GoddesOfTheSun (sungoddess at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2319340-Bones-In-The-Field