by Richard Trotter

The glass on broken windows
would be jagged
if it could only care
with no more footsteps
upon the unused stair.

Dirty damaged desks,
a rusting broken stool
wallow in the gloom
uncertain of the future
in their helpless doom.

Listen to the voices
in the wounded walls
that ask the people when
they'll return and fill them
with memories again.


Posted on 03/03/2004
Copyright © 2021 Richard Trotter

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 03/10/04 at 10:30 AM

actually, i think the rhyme scheme is original... it is different, but easily adaptable... i am thinking of an old abandoned school, or other place... you transport the reader into your area... blessings...

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