Scrap short poem

Photo by LaVladina

A silent whisper,
I continue to be.

A shadow missed,
on the deserted street.

A speck of dust,
that nobody sees.

In ancient trunks,
and cobwebbed locks.

I lie inside,
a forgotten sigh.

Through dirty nights,
and foreseen dawns.

I’m nothing new,
but a shade of grey.

Warm and calm,
I’ll always be.

A secret I am
I continue to be.

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2 Comments on "Scrap"

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Savi Mani

oh what a wonderful poem on the “forgotten” loved each and every bit of it……..felt the pain of being scrap………..but yes there is a light there is a life within which keeps it alive which keeps it moving…………awesome poem………..


Of a little secret that’s harbored in every human heart! Loved your writing style!