#WritcoPoemPrompt6
The river that flows down the hill,
Is never able to be a moment still,
The rocks and pebbles at it's edge,
Lie as steady as the dead.

Dead as the eyes and lips of the soul,
Crumbling under pressure.

Time wasted,
Life tasteless....

The river that flows down the hill,
Is never a time to leave,
With stuff left unsaid.

The rock and pebbles at it's edge,
You think, like I said,
Lie still as the dead.

Still as nothing in a river bend,
Still as nothing when time ends,
Still until their washed away,
In the rivers streams.

Dead as the eyes can see...
© TriciaLynn2018