My Face

I'm trying hard to see, she said
But the world is in my face,
It's useless crying so much, I guess
But it's all really just such a mess,
That I feel so out of place

(We were waiting for the rain to fall)

In the backyards leaves were turning
Colours burning, looked like quilts
Wavering in some gentle blaze
Watch as Summer slowly wilts
Away ( a dying haze )

Tried to telephone her again today
Number difficult to trace
Dialing back words, as though afraid
I'm trying hard to see, she said
But the words are on my face...

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 124 times
Written on 2022-09-22 at 19:11

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