In rooms whose lights
On winter evenings
Make peepshows of our lives -
Behind each window
A stage so cluttered up
With props and furniture
Its not surprising
We make a mess of what began
So simply with i love you
Look at us: some
Slumped in chairs
And hardly ever speaking
And others mouthing
The same tired lines to ears
That long ago stopped listening.
Once we must of dreamed
Of something better.
But even those who swapped
One partner for another
Have ended up
Like the rest of us:
Behind doors, moving outside
Only to go to work
Or spend the weekend with mother
Wrtten by Vicki Feaver
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The Life Of Poetry
PoetryThis story is filled with poetry each being dirrerent and if you would like your poem to be featured please feel free to contact me on Instagram at strawberrycheescake_charlie
