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Poetry

A Dripping Faucet copyright 1997

A Dripping Faucet

Where have all the cheerful sounds gone?
Her laughter, like music, soothes the aching heart,
No more.
Her patience, lulling my fevered mind to rest,
No more.
Her joy as colorful ribbon and paper give way,
No more.

What sounds are heard in loneliness?
A dripping faucet, left carelessly to bleed eternal,
The ticking of a clock, discarded amongst shelves of memories,
A mindless ant dragging away a crumb of bread,
My heart, slowly splitting into pieces.

 

 

 

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