Behind you!
At your feet
A wisp of wind
Up the street
Hallowed ground
Watchful eyes
A burning tree
Midnight skies
Why you so easily dismiss what comes before
Don't you see?
Past is prologue and days are numbered
For a good reason
A sad old clown
Gun in mouth
Eyes tell stories
Tears write out
He cannot laugh
He cannot cry
His only wish
That he could die
But what comes next? Who decides
How this ends or where it lies
In time we see the past again
Story spins 'round till it ends
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- John
- I write not to make sense but to lose it.
No comments:
Post a Comment