quickly the year
goes by.
the months slipping
through
your hand
like falling leaves.
waiting
to be swept up
in photographs,
messages,
so many things
you scrolled through
and didn't read.
each breath
measured
and taken,
discarded as the heart
beats on. but
it's different now,
not like
your childhood home,
your boyhood
world
where everything
made sense,
where each day was
gold.
No comments:
Post a Comment