The Pink SkY
The sky was pink but felt like grey.
A laugh got caught and slipped away.
The tea went cold. I drank it still.
Some days are soft, then turn to stone.
A child ran past. I almost smiled.
The years stood back, and I was wild.
Bare feet, warm grass, a skipping rope,
and in my hand, a thread of hope.
The bus drove past, no one looked in.
A shadow moved, a quiet grin.
The light was gold, the day was done.
I closed my eyes, it’s okay, the sun.
I let it warm the thoughts I kept,
the ones that wake me when I’ve slept.
Not grief, not joy, just what I know —
a silent tune from long ago.
I stayed until the breeze grew thin,
then rose, and let the dark begin.
The stars appeared, a whispered light,
they hummed their song into the night.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
This poem gave me a soothing and calming and cozy feeling. Good job.