The walls are grey
The furniture beige
His lips white
And the flowers you gave me
have dried. The cement
is charcoal
My shoes black
My fingertips red
And the poems you wrote for me
are in a stack, the pages yellowed,
my eyes turned pink
I kept the flowers
and the poems I’ll never read
The room is without a pulse,
the streets dark
The flowers have died
And all I have are some words and a burn mark.
ALEXIA THEOPOULOS is a student at McGill University studying Secondary English Education. Her first publication requires a special thank you to Andrew Katz, her writing mentor while studying at Dawson College.
Copyright © 2018 by Alexia Theopoulos. All rights reserved.
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