A place where children used to play
Truth too good, some would say
A place to house the diseased
No such place exists, no escape keys
No warning and no regard
All the facility alarmingly fell apart
The home to many was no more
The safehaven for wounded, a corps
Papers scattered, work unfinished
The people forgotten, deminished
Documentation of names and faces
Heaps among piles of past cases
Fallen tiles, peeling paints
Cracked windows, lost saints
Stained curtains and broken chairs
Everywhere, agony and dispair
For I lived there, beginning to end
I saw the happiness bend
Joy faded, oblivion was created
I suppose it was long awaited
A prisoner belonging to Forest Haven
A watcher among the graven
A simple smear on the wall
Can you see me, once and for all?
Me and my big sister, @chelsea88, went to an abandonded insane asylum together. I stumbled into this room filled with old toy machines for children... I snapped this image. Do you see what I see?
My poem was inspired by this picture (taken by me, edited by me).
Riveting poetry that totally fits this place. I really like how that photo edit turned out as well... I will be doing my blog of the same soon
In the meantime, resteemed ya!
Thank you! I was trying to be creative. Thanks for resteeming!
@originalworks
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Thx bot
Thanks!
Hello,
I can remember these "dirty" places from my youth, we mostly played outside in the nature, without smartphones, yeah, the good old times...
Nice to meet the sister of @chelsea88 !
Best regards from Thailand
Maybe you like to join our group, too. Your sis is a member too and I think the good soul of the group.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/184377172301161/
Hey! That is good to know! I followed you (: best regards!!
Hey, nice to hear and greetings
Tom
Powerful poetry so well written
Thank you so much!!