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Flicker. Glow. Flicker.
A lone lightbulb swings from the ceiling,
casting its soft light over the room.
Its bare, dingy surroundings waver.
Flicker. A table, a lone chair.
Flicker. An empty pantry, an unlit stove.
Flicker. A letter, lying by the door.
Flicker. A bed, and a man goes still.
One last flicker, and it all dies out.
A lone lightbulb swings from the ceiling,
casting its soft light over the room.
Its bare, dingy surroundings waver.
Flicker. A table, a lone chair.
Flicker. An empty pantry, an unlit stove.
Flicker. A letter, lying by the door.
Flicker. A bed, and a man goes still.
One last flicker, and it all dies out.
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4 comments:
So I'm not entirely happy with the last line,the poem was progressing beautifully and the climax doesn't do enough justice.
But,the essence remains clear. It hit me but not as powerfully as I think it should have.
Stop trying so hard
lovely words...you have crafted it beautifully!
the lines in themselve are not strong but the idea holds the entire poem together taking awarmth out the title "flicker"
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