Poem of the Week | Shell by Anita Howard
One half of the room
a collage of debris,
tumbled and broken,
sadly wasting concrete.
The other still intact
in pastel tints of order,
all playthings softly ranked,
squat little cupboards, each one with its label.
Still primed to share, take turns
and play like friends,
small hands make mute appeal
to shattered walls.
For more original poetry, check out the HeadStuff Poem of the Week and Unbound archives.
To submit to HeadStuff, please read our submission guidelines.
Cover photo by Anita Howard