"Alzheimer's"
The Old Iron Gate
The old gate,
its usefulness gone,
hangs by only one hinge.
Weather worn pickets,
like faded dreams,
once new and bright,
lie scattered across the yard.
Inside the old farmhouse,
wasting away through years of neglect,
where once lived the laughter of children,
there is only silence.
Miles away in a drab joyless room,
where echoes of blurred memories
bounce off bare wall,
lies a once beautiful lady
at the end of a plastic tube.
An old iron gate
hangs by only one hinge....
Marcus Omer got serious about writing after he retired in 1997. He draws his inspiration from the many emotions we experience in life. He has published Of Sunshine and Clouds with iUniverse and The Winding Road with Shadow Poetry. He’s also published in Snippets, The Magic of Words and several issues of Golden Words.
Wow, this is so meaningful and incredibly well written. I loved how you ended this poem, so much like a cliffhanger. Made me think, and feel what you were trying to portray, very powerful. I enjoyed reading this piece immensely. Great work,
ReplyDeleteRussell
Loved the piece. Licked the line 'weather-worn pickets'... Very emotive. Thanks for sharing, Ralph.
ReplyDeleteVery powerful read, enjoyed it a lot, great lines throughout.
ReplyDeleteMarcus,
ReplyDeleteI really liked this. It is very deep and mysterious.
Your new friend,
David Fox
Cleverly written you draw your reader in, educate them and leave them thinking. Well done. Enjoyed my visit today. Kindest thoughts...
ReplyDelete