Memories without a picture,
The dusty mirror you look into.
Your image is clear in your mind,
But yet you feel the rusted taste,
Of the fading memories and yet,
You don't have means to relive,
Those moments you held so dear,
Now worth a lot, and now worth nothing as
The memories fade away to nothingness.
Yet the heart will remember the pull,
When someday you'll have the same,
Just the person changes,
The feelings change and maybe,
The dust will be wiped away,
The curtains removed and the memories,
Would be clear as glass again.
YOU ARE READING
MUSINGS OF A SOLIVAGANT
PuisiJust like her solivagant mind wanders and the soft vernalagnia colors her cheeks, rosy - poetry swells from her inside. What her camera captures, spins words of hope and despair in her. Where the heart bleeds on to the paper, there springs poetry...
