Friday, May 2, 2014

The past you imagined was all lies, lies, lies

Don’t open your eyes
Try not to see
Things are no longer
Where things ought to be

That voice—is it her?
Behind a closed door
She calls you a stranger
Your mother no more

Breathe through the moment
Turn, turn your eyes
The past you imagined
Was all lies, lies, lies

Things are no longer
Where things ought to be
Who is this stranger
Is it still me?


★ Inspired by poetry? Treat yourself a gift ★

"the book overflows with some of the most eloquent poetic moments in print"

No comments:

Post a Comment