Serrated Keys

Fall through
To you.
Down these roads,
Tears will flow,
Leading us back
To worn-out tracks;
The old roads are gone,
Leaving us just one
Route home. Maybe there’s more,
Tracks we’ve not walked before.
But we’re blind from the road’s tears,
Blacked-out signs leading only here;
We wander aimlessly,
Embracing misery.
Tell us where we are,
Or show us in stars;
These maps are white
Yet black as night,
And just tell
How we fell.
No hope.
No home.


About DickensianJack

Born in Wolverhampton in November '93, moved to Huddersfield in September 2012. Studying at the University of Huddersfield. In love with the town - simple as that. As for the blog itself, I've been doing bits and pieces of writing (with varying quality) for a few years. A friend suggested I start a blog to share my work. Most of the stuff on here is poems, but there's other work interspersed on the page. Feel free to leave any comments on my work. Twitter: @DickensianJack (Jack Dickens) Facebook: Cheers, enjoy.
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