Two brass bells
Once shiny and new
Now the metal breaks through the well chipped paint
The owl, hollow, like an empty skull
Mustard paint edging yellow jingling metal
The cat, faceless, like anonymity
The metal only peeks through on the most raised points
The cute brushstrokes have worn down
The finish has matted
And I think, that he had indeed told me
That I knew
But I failed
Did that owl call to say that I should have taken better care?
That you reap what you sow,
That both rejuvenation and disease rides the cool night air,
I think so.
Now only time will show what will be
I hope, Gods, I pray, that this will turn with, rather than against.
8 years ago
there are over 128,000 notes and i still got one





















