Wilted Flowers

by

Faye Hoffman

Same old house,
same old room.
Dusty floors,
the smell of doom.

Wilted flowers,
on the wall.
A picture of,
what we've become.

Weathered storms,
of years gone by.
Just passing time,
until goodbye.

Forgotten love,
and feelings lost.
Too tired to talk,
too late to cry.

Wilting flowers,
we are all.
We wait our turn,
for that last call.

Faded memories,
left for some.
Others pray,
for theirs to come.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Far from the land I was raised in
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

To visit all of Faye Hoffman's poems, click HERE

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