The races on life's tracks;
I try not to shutdown,
I spend the day looking down,
Wondering why I can't fill my cracks.
Down means up and high!
Lost in clouds of sweet serenity;
Lost in silence and tranquility,
Lavendre, Lavendre, make me fly.
Sweet, sweet, Lavendre of pure-
Waterways and calm embrace,
Soften and brush against my LOUD face,
Your caves of caution and devotion entice and lure...
YOU ARE READING
Whiffs Of NostAlgiA
Poetry...memories , memories, memories.. that's all they are now isn't it...
