Walkways – the poem – part 12 of 16

…. Once, gentle. Now, riled and nowhere but where the stench of sewage is piled on the curb. The gears of bitter disappointment snatching you into a feral hold. Exotic tall weeds, broken at the base. Friendships are spoiled at the root, even love is overshadowed by the decay. Less obligation, less affection, less loyalty. … Continue reading Walkways – the poem – part 12 of 16