Like footprints in the snow
or lightning in a jar.
Reaching for the sky and touching a star.
The sirens calling but she never seems near.
Searching for love in hates amphitheatre
This prison cell
I call it home,
imposed my sentence
no chance for parole.
Life on the outside is silenced and unimportant.
Like the leaves rustling in Augusts wind,
the past is forgotten
the present is ignored.
The future...
Who knows at this point?
Her mystery still talks to me
her sublime frailty.
Can't be like everyone else
yet I don't know myself.
Like footprints in the snow
where hearts once beat.
One lonely person going the wrong way on life's one-way street.
© isalittlebroken