Bleh with Barry

Random with a cynical twist of lime.

Immortality

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A faded teacup sits on
A window ledge.
A faint bit of steam
Hoovers above it.

A spoon lies on the floor
Close to the ledge…
Gleaming in the afternoon sun
Against the paisley.

A heaped pile of sweetness
stretches across the carpet.
A hand reaches to pick
Toward it to be imbued with life.

A fly flits cautiously, tenderly
Around the heavily lidded eyes.
Trying to stir them from
Their octogenarian slumber.

Alas, the bells of tea time
Today
Are playing
A requiem mass.

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Written by barryr22

April 19, 2010 at 10:39 pm

Posted in Poetry

Tagged with , , , , ,

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