Balloon on a string in an empty room
Head on the ceiling like any other ghost,
Just trying to get out

The ribbons lose their luster
The cheeks start to sag
They’ll find bits of you in the trees,
Your time in a child’s hands now passed
You’ll be in the pictures, still
You’re behind the smiles that day.

Categories: Poetry

Tags: DPchallenge, Poetry, postaday