Colors Bleached From Heating Sun

I see the dust.
I suspect no water falls.
The rusting done,
Supports no life at all.

The air remains stagnant.
Colors bleached from heating Sun.
What had existed seems to have disappeared.
And I've been questioned...
Why I do not embrace this,
As a sign of welcome.

poem by Lawrence S. PertillarReport problemRelated quotes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Share
 
 
This text contains a mistake
This text is duplicate
The author of this text is another person
Another problem

More info, if necessary

Your name

Your e-mail