Pick pocketed lives delve into

Runaway futures, Never to be seen...

Jagged punctuation followed by

Half finished thoughts written into

The memories we never saw shared ---

Back tracking to yesterdays

That hold knowing keys

I cannot find

The proper pathway

Seems to have morphed

Into a storm of angry clouds

Waving into the sea ...

The sand meets our feet with a quickness

As I feel me fall out of sync

You Rise above the rest

Knowing talk is cheap

We stay quiet...

Tangled threads woven

By Lockhart love...

Wise eyes of youth hear the feels

That become blinded by years...




















© fire_tamed_dame