Thursday, 25 August 2016

Gambler's Prospect

Lights Shine,

Sounds climb.

I do not hear them,

Floors perfumed plush,

I do not smell or sense them,

I wear glasses because I am old, not because I am tired.

There are no clocks in this place, Time ages, Memory does not.

Once I was surrounded by many friends, The favourite of men in my blue dress,

Now I am a caricature!

I come here for acceptance, I am platonically courted.

There is no love for me, only my memories.

I am faded, yet I am not the only one. For all around me are isolated.

No one really cares,

Life is a gamble, and in my mind I am standing alone in a field of memories.


The End 

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