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Wednesday 19 June 2019

Stopped


Stopped

The house is slowly grinding to a halt
For want of better care and more attention
There’s nagging neglect and a lack of love
A running-down of what once was vibrant

But now, in the empty bathroom
The tap carries on its steady leaking
Its silent drips fall unheeded
And make a stain upon the sink

In the lounge, upon the mantel
The clock un-wound stands silent
And no longer tells the time
Nor chimes upon the hour

In the cheerless kitchen
The plates sit unwashed upon the drainer
Holding dirty forks and knives
Awaiting loading into the machine

And in the bedroom
The floor has gathered a fair selection
Of abandoned grubby clothes
Which have not yet made it to the laundry

Will no-one draw these gloomy curtains back
And let some light back in to the rooms?
How much longer can this go on
Before something starts to give?

How many days until everything’s gone
And there is nothing left that’s fit to use?
And do you think we will ever start again
To put our lives back in running order?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2019

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