I stare back at me, through the puddles of water.
I glare back at my misery, in these puddles of water.
Scattered, in grief, decadent over my life of a quarter.
Silent, these pools stare back at me, o'er these pools, I falter.
Puddles of water, endlessly reflecting the buildings, the skies, the flounderings.
Puddles of water, in silent despair, they hold on to share a moment of 'morrow.
The dead leaves, the grey skies, a crow crying.
Nature halts life, I too stop by.
I splash these puddles of mucky water.
Enchanting!
ReplyDeleteLovely imagery... somehow though, I associate puddles with the innocence of life. Where you jump and splash mud over yourself without a care in the world.. But I loved your poem and the thought behind it :D
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