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by Phronesis Sep 10, 2018
Sadness, depression /
The living room is silent
Except for cicadas
And refrigerator humming
As fingers nimbly dance on the keys
To the beat of military drumming.
Dirty plates, debris from
A merciless torrent of thoughts,
Lay idle in a bustling waste.
The sands of life seep through
My fingers- the only remnants haste.
I clutch desperately
To what's left behind
The dancers frozen on the stage
Lights are killed, curtains closed,
Nothing left to see here.
If I scour through the crowd,
I'll catch your glimpse in theirs.
And even though I look away,
Screw my eyes shut tightly, hoping they obey,
Your image is burned there- in my mind.
Your presence seeps into the floor
To remain there evermore
Buried deep within curry spice,
And no matter how many eons pass
You'll always be with me.
My heart beats like a metronome
Piercing through the screaming silence.
A stark reminder of the time I've lost
The things I should've done-
And the things I didn't.
by Milly Hayward
Memories of times gone by can rerun through our minds like a never ending movie. An enjoyable read with excellent visuals. Milly x
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