Unmerciful Drought
Poetry embracing words
I am like a house with no door.
A lock with no key.
A page with no words.
Summer came uninvited
leaving little time
to find the shade.
With me living in my shattered glass abode,
feeling parched and withered,
wordless,
like the drought that dries out the soil
and shrivels each blade of grass
to shades of golden beige.
I used to bask in monochrome
loving the simplicity of life.
Now I crave some color.
I crave some rain.
I lust for words that will spin my world.
Some merciful morsels of balance,
just enough to tip the scales.
Not too much.
Not too little.
Just enough to salt the pot.
I wasn’t always a house with no door.
A key with no lock.
A page with no words.
What will it take to make me feel whole
and balanced again?
To bring me back to life?
Or must I perpetually adjust to what will be?
© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.
