General Poetry posted June 20, 2019


Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
If Only This Bench Could Talk

Forsaken... Forgotten

by Artasylum

Soft whispers from sweet voices
haunt this tattered park.
Mingling with the swirling leaves;
they enjoyed one last 
one last dance before dark.
 
This old wrought iron retreat
once enticed lovers to sit.
Seduced by its sculpted allure,,,
they'd nestle together and kiss.
 
Once a beautifully sculpted pulpit of refuge,
absorbed decades of heartbreak and tears.
A confessional with no dispensation...
never betrayed its parishioners' fears.
 
Parades of children hid beneath
its tired, old splintery seat.
Stealthily they'd play hide-n-seek;
victims above clueless they were ‘it’.
 
The down-trodden and strollers once
lingered to gobble-down their lunch. 
They’ve now forsaken this vintage throne
for shinier, benches unknown.

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2019
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