I often see the time 11:11 on the clock,
And like a click or tick or tock,
I'm reminded of a childhood wish.
Deep
Buried memories sync together like mended old wounds.
Scars left to the mind
As she swelled around innocent
Laughter,
Skyrocketing us into orbit of adulthood.
11:11 is a time of magic, faded long ago with toys and wish-makers.
Like adults don't wish upon stars.
YOU ARE READING
Strength of Fire
PoetryBook of poetry about emotions I've felt through the years. I wanted to continue to express myself with writing, and my last poetry book seems pretty filled up. Wanting to start a new, so here's Strength by Fire, poetry about a life's journey and the...
