PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I walked a stoney road
Unevenly set, worn with age.
It was a road forgotten,
one no longer walked nor maintained.
It's only guests a summer sun,
or winter tempest.

It was a thing built by man,
only to be passed back to the mother,
back into natures fair and balanced grasp.

I'm positive this road once bustled,
with the rolling wheels of a well used wagon,
or the shined shoes of a high rolling salesman.
Men would pass daily on this path,
with a tip of the hat and a raise of the brow.
T'was full of life and laughter.

Now this twisting trail casts a dull grey, dead autumn leaves strewn about.
An enigmatic silence permeates throughout,
into the trees, the rocks, and my soul.

For life has passed this road by.
The world has cast it away.
It has become as forgotten as the men that made it,
as forgotten as I.