Forlorn Corners Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Forlorn Corners
Serious countenances sitting in windows, wondering where life
has gone as they sit in forlorn corners of a rehab center.
Nothing to look forward to, hopes have all died and there's
nothing left to desire.
Watching people still having lives to live is depressing and
doesn't help spirits be picked up.
Folding a heart, putting it away, letting go, anticipating
going farther into the future of death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 2:01:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
