Sorrow is a wilted rose
sepia tinted and crumpled up prose,
Sorrow is cold winter rain
slithering down cracked window panes,
Sorrow is dilapidated barns
in forgotten little villages,
Sorrow is love discarded
walking down deserted lanes,
Sorrow is softly sharp
cutting through sinew and heart,
Sorrow flies on broken wings
journeying through lands unforgiving,
Sorrow is young and old
lost in yearning yesterdays and wrinkled up tomorrows,
Sorrow is not knowing
what you had today,
Until you’ve lost it forever
never to have it come back
someday….
ZEN lifescapes 
Dear Anjali,
Thank you for this post. As I sit here listening to the music of Olafur Arnalds (which seems to evoke similar depths as this piece by you), I’m left to reflect on how precious is life, and how we ought not squander it or waste it.
All good wishes,
robert
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Ahhh…music and poetry..nothing satisfies the soul more..to look into itself ever more..ever deeper…
Thank you.
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Really really beautiful words of sorrowness! Nice poem.
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Really glad you enjoyed it Khanindra! Thank you for your kind words.:)
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So beautfiully expressed, loved it.
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Beautifully expressed, loved it:)
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Thank you Jill for dropping by and your kind words! š
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Lovely. You had me at the opening.
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Thank you for dropping by – glad you liked it š
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