Sunday, July 19, 2009

The Town of Me, a poem

The Town of Me

My days have been
The passing of dreams,
Not quite real clouds
Built of smoke and dust,
Marking each pained
But gritty footstep
With rasping laughter
To steal away
The life-blood of
This aging ghost town,
While colourless
thoughts raised without form
walk through my halls,
echos of silence.

Copyright © Clayton Clifford Bye 2009

For more of Clayton Bye's writing, visit his website or become a fan.


  1. Great poem!

    Sorry you are not feeling too good, hope you are not suffering. I am just about to follow you - I thought I had to be honest - as Ella, that is :)

    Take care,