Monet’s Impressions

Standing on the bridge
Looking at the lilies
Blurred but colourful
Slipping into
Wishy-washy pastels
Easing my pain

Autumn has come
The muddy water
The rotting leaves
Green and brown
My lungs want to push out
One last breath

Winter is nearly here
The lilies are dying
Darkness is stirring
In the tightness
Of my chest