Colours
Bleach out, fade.
All withers, turns grey.
Dust gathers
Between the cracks in time.
Decay
Gathers pace, even,
Before the curtain falls.
But it is a new broom
That is all.
The scenery changes,
Some of the actors too,
But the characters
Are familiar,
Same old plotlines too.
You will see after all
That nothing’s new.
© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Made of sticks and stones 
What an amazing featured image, and wonderful poem. This is the second time that I have heard ‘nothing is new’, must be an important message about dealing with things with a ‘new’ mindset.
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Thank you, Rika. Think we all need that reminder occasionally.
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