What once had blossomed now appears to wither.
Spring colors're fading and do smell of rot.
And winter heralds unashamedly slither
Back into town, to the old familiar spot.
The seaside view presents no lovely image,
Most of the time being hidden by the mist.
It feels as if some looter’s done this pillage
And robbed the nature till it was deceased.
Should I reveal the one who's guilty of this crime?
But even then, I say, what difference does it make?
Yet I'm impressed for sure how little it took you time
To rob down to the bone and carelessly forsake.
Now that you're gone there're only shadows left
Reminding me each day of what I'm now bereft.
24. What once had blossomed now appears to wither
© Copyright: Александр Арганаиди, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121042904884
Свидетельство о публикации №121042904884
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