A stranger called this morning

Dressed in black and grey

Put every sound into a bag

And carried them away.

 

The screaming of the fire bell.

The talking of the children.

The twisting of the lock.

The ticking of the clock.

 

The spotting of Pudsey.

The flicking of the pencil.

 The splatting the paint.

The steering of the stencil.

 

The drawing of the pen.

The squeaking of the chair.

The tapping of the computer.

The stomping on the stair.

 

A stranger called this morning

He didn’t leave his name

Left us only silence

Life will never be the same.

 

By Christian