Only Grey Poem by Bill Smith
Only Grey
How fragile is love?
How easily it grows
How easily it goes
We blur its edges
Stretching to gossamer thin
Wrapping ourselves in dreams of plenty
While lurking in the background
Waiting to fall like an African night
Waits a pain so unimaginable
That we begin to fear love itself
Until comes a moment were we draw a charcoal line of love
Feathering the edges with reasons
Until only grey remains
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 7:39:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice artistic imagery. Very good line 'Waiting to fall like an African night.'