Thoughts swirl as the numbers move
Up, up and up some more,
Then down to nothing
Only to start over.
A never ending cycle of the past
What if, what if, what if
Memories had just stayed lost
If only what if.
Light seeping, creeping in the dark
Pale pink, orange then blue
Another sleepless night gone,
A night wasted on you.
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The past is just a collection of unchangeable things that weigh on our minds.
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The Quasi-Coherent Ramblings of a Self Proclaimed Hermitess
RandomIf the title didn't say it all read on. A collection of poems, other short works and random ideas with varying themes. Reader input is encouraged, oh and a "Hermitess" is a female hermit. Most entries have a base in my real life, but then again mos...
