Owain Glyn

Halfway House (Dedicated To Lynne Fincherspringgarden) - Poem by Owain Glyn

Tired, soulless, vacant eyes,
Anonymous, below dark skies.
Stare silently, through grimy glass,
As minutes, hours, and days, just pass.

Tattered armchairs, soaked in pain,
Shelter, whispered prayers, in vain.
Shuffling steps, in ghastly halls,
Are muffled by the bloodstained walls.

There is no sign, or breath, of hope,
For these poor souls, who fail to cope.
Just whisky days, and wine fueled nights,
To dull the glare of demon lights.

Throughout this sad and soulful place,
I see no sign, of God's good grace.
As if the inmates realize,
This is the road, to their demise.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Poet's Notes about The Poem

A view of the atmosphere and residents of a halfway house.

Owain Glyn

Comments about Halfway House (Dedicated To Lynne Fincherspringgarden) by Owain Glyn

  • Rookie - 481 Points Danny Draper (6/17/2013 7:05:00 AM)

    A good poem that highlights the halfway the limbo of forwards or back, teetering on the precipice, but ultimately weathered down to base parts and disappears. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 26, 2013

Poem Edited: Friday, September 6, 2013

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