Friday, 13 December 2013

Harshness of life..

The tiny flame flickers
Struggling to exist
Not wanting to die
As a draft whips through
Chilling me and you

It dimly lights the room
Highlighting its bareness
With wooden floor boards
And cracked glass panes
Over looking lanes

Life is tough here
Living hand to mouth
But we manage to get by
Watching out for each other
As there is no other

Huddled under a blanket
Against the cold weather
The flame just survives
As the window rattles
We fight our battles

Keep the candle lit
It is our sign of hope
As we try to exist
Our cold bare space
In the barren place

Even a cold bare space can be called your place,  your home.
We should be grateful for the things we have.

© Lis Bull 2013

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