Month: September 2014

The Note

Rows of words stand to attention
Finger runs along the spines
Which story to tell tonight
Aged hand lingers
Takes a book from your shelf
Unfamiliar in my hand
Flicking through the pages
Distinctive smell of old paper
Dusty yet comforting
Inhale the rich scent deep
A note falls from the pages
Tired and faded
The words are yours
I do not know them
A secret after all these years


Don’t know what to say
Not sure what to do
You’re gone
And I can’t cope anymore
No one to talk to
To share my dreams
Hollow well
Drags me down
Collapsed within
Nothing left of you
No scrap to hold onto
Overwhelmed with grief
Stuck in slow motion
Where to go from here?