Description
Monologue/Medidtation: I remember that time of desolation
I remember that time of desolation.
It seemed all colour had drained from the garden,
bright flowers looked grey to me.
I felt physically heavy.
This was no 'Monday morning' feeling.
The depression was real,
no way could I 'pull my socks up.'
Circumstance had laid me low.
Yet somehow,
into the darkness,
the slightest glimmer of hope barely penetrated,
but something was there,
something was there.
Continues...
Andrew Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 27/5/2012 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England, www.stainer.co.uk.
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