Two years hence
I stand and wonder,
At the whirlwind of pain
And another's blunder.
The time that was to heal
Checked itself, curbed it's advice,
Making it even harder
To forgive the vice.
One by one
They dropped, slowly,
The string only snapped once
And set all the pearls free.
Things around me stir
Slow, as a classic movie fight,
Broken, incoherent and disjoint
The color robbed by black & white.
Sedated I watch
As life speaks my thoughts,
There is no space to love
But enough to regret what's lost.
One by one
They spread out, scattered
I grappled to collect them
But it no longer mattered...
2 comments:
Do the pearls really not matter anymore? The two years will turn into five, and then ten, and so on. I hope you find that elusive peace soon.
Well-expressed, as always.
Thanks Bob! Hope you are right :)
As for your question, I think the pearls still matter, it's collecting them which has becoming less significant for several reasons. Very figurative, hard to explain on text, maybe will talk about it when I am in NYC!
Thanks for stopping by the blog.
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