No Whisper, No Sound.

Look at all the cracks in this wall.
If things don't change, they will sprawl.
You've been given a warning, a simple call.
One more month to watch it fall.

Rotten apples have been landing below.
Not even worthy of picking up to throw.
Disease is evident as this tree grows.
No green grass on the other side to mow.

Rancid days and hours are spent.
Like worthless dollars on houses for rent.
Soon to wonder where the good worker went.
You've been given a warning, a simple hint.

This dear boy hasn't time to hang around.
This tree is worthless and sagging the ground.
A little nourishment and hope can be found.
I will leave in silence, no whisper, no sound.

poem by Gulliver Gimble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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