The Lonely Attic

Grayish dust carpets the wooden floors
Moth-eaten books rest on the shelf
The bitter sight none wishes to witness
In the lonely forgotten attic


A dusty wooden chest sits in the corner
Broken lights dangle from the ceiling
The smell of forgotten past lingers still
In the lonely forgotten attic


A battered Mr.Cuddles limps at its side
Grandpa’s gramophone remains abandoned
All silent but the whispers from the mice
In the lonely forgotten attic


Isolated, estranged, and forgotten.

9th March 2012
11.44pm