Behind closed doors, all that glitters is lost.

Behind closed doors, all that glitters is lost.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

As he closed
and locked the door
behind him
all his glittering stars of moments
remain peacefully still
while no longer will
the stinging winds
of memories act out
as reminders.
Of all things coloured
he sees only black and white
he has no glasses
but the sun still shines
and there are rainbows
so he is told.

© 2020 andrew mitchell


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Added on December 24, 2020
Last Updated on December 24, 2020

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..