Hardly awaited it was
with a wooden stick I passed each pace.
Each path with a different turn.
Each pass with a different face.
Memories do take a run,
through my churning heart, so wide.
Roaring emotions as tide,
stuck on each every walls of mind.
Wrinkled world and wrinkled skin.
With a posture of crawl I grin.
Everything stood but none the time,
with my scratched eye specs I knew.
Life on a slide of dime,
moving with countless number of flew.
Restless I sat on a lonely bench,
eyeing the rays of sun with a bit crunch.....
© DKHM🌹💮🌷🏵️