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 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg 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.. |

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