LAKESIDE
sometimes life feels
like an amusement park
closed too many years
paint chips on rotting wood
another pleasure leaves
a fun house no longer
a mountain of memories
left dying in quiet decay
I am particularly fond of imagery, and yours elicited a visceral response.
‘paint chips on rotting wood’
I loved that line, and the next one as well.
Hardly an expert on poetry, but I know what I like and I enjoyed reading this very much. Thank you.
