free yourself
from memories that time has passed,
In words that were not standing on,
In the photos just burnt,
and to the letters thrown in the trash.

free yourself
from the late nights talks used to,
to the unplanned strollers,
in the dances while the rain is pouring,
and to the convenient stores you are staying in.

free yourself
from those nights full of crying,
in the morning waking up because of the wound,
in those afternoon that sadness is slowly embracing you,
and the time you are crushed.





© Ken Stanley