a poem i wrote about a vibrant room


a vibrant room

a pack of cigarettes
sit on a bare empty table
an ashtray leans towards it
begging for its smoke
the floor is wooden
with hidden splinters
a black cord snakes its way
in the middle of brown seas
to a source of sound
that once sung sweetly
life’s melancholy
an escape is housed
in between the four pale walls
a framed photo slants
with old strangers
dust falls like raindrops
energy pulses
in crevice of memories
that leave room for
life’s vibrancy

Poem from Life In Technicolor Vol. 3: PEACE

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