Pretty Stones

You lay it all out in pretty stones
What you took what you gave
What you've lost what you own
You look at the whole of it
Trees stand depressed
You ignore the sun's smirk
Seems you weren't quite the best
Regardless you stand up
Watch the cold stream run on
Hear some ghosts call your name
Hear the breeze whisper shame
Too late now
M
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Comments
Very beautifulÂ
And that's a great compliment coming from you ... thankyou ... hugs x
Pretty strong write, Marion. Perhaps the stream is calling your name
saying that it’s not too late. And it’s so soothing listening to a stream.  BÂ
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Hello you... thanks B x
Hi Marion,
Writing poetry is good for the soul. Offers release.
Another excellent effort.
Johm
God... doesn't it just. Thanks so much John x