Ruminations

As the eighth year drifts in,
The seven gone by, sighs.
Melancholy drips from the eyes,
In faces turned to ghosts.
Held steadfast in the mind,
By memories of long abandoned dreams.
Empty nests, forgotten lays, faded tunes
And mockingbirds gone away.
Lingering doubts, drifitng nostalgia,
Uncertain amnesia,
Can memories lie?
Or do the threads of an old life,
Knit patterns all too familiar,
And color the days
With used dye?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: