Today forever I forget.
The fantasy of my self-persuasion.
Memories of the past that haunt.
Time still passing me by.
In the solitary snowfall.
Still your name comes to mind.
On a bus ride to nowhere, your place in sight.
Can I join your there, today.
Forever.
YOU ARE READING
Salad Days
PoetrySad poems from sad and angry times. Written from a juvenile time (14 years old) to older. That's what you get when you leave a teen to ponder reality. A pen hits reality harder than high school survival. Original Art from Vivianne Rheaume
