Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Agatha Aduro

There is a splintered street
Where dreams die at dawn

The gurgle of laughter stilled
In the unlikeliest of throats

There is a nascent irascibility that sends
Youth hurtling off the edge of this precipice

Called life.  Death is not painful
For the dead. Only for the unfortunate

Living who sift through memories
Like voyeurs. Searching for something

Elusive – trying to wring warmth
From a blanket left in the sun

This street brings a schizophrenic wish
For voices that are not there

It breeds fluttering ghosts that
Flap wings in rib cages


From The Enchanting and other poems. Click HERE for link to Free download. To read Agatha Aduro’s blog, click HERE.




Some all-rounded writer with the wits to turn anything and everything to words with inspiration... cheering to glory and on...

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