1.25.17
Home is the place where I hang my hat.
But I have no hat to hang, nor the time to.
The time is buried in a past of story tales, and nighttime adventures.
A past that will never be unburied.
It was buried to forget,
But i forgot to forget, and I remember vividly at night.
Night is the time were most people sleep. There dreams tell of hidden fantasies.
Dream, is one of many words for what you see while your asleep.
I know of others.
kmg
YOU ARE READING
A Box Of Secrets
PoetryA poem is a way to express your hidden emotions. Use it to your advantage and set free a world of words.
