Monday, February 20, 2012

Late February Poetry

I wish that I could easily let go,
I wish the slightest thing didn't remind me of you.
It would be quieter,
More easy to step ahead without thinking of you
and what you might think of me.
Our paths haven't crossed in a while,
I'm beginning to forget how you look,
the way your voice should sound.
Maybe I'm beginning to let go.

~ ~ ~

Strang thought swirl through my head.
They twist
and they turn,
Taking me on a wonderfully weird adventure.
Jump and sprint from one idea to another,
Random ramblings of a confused mind.

~ ~ ~

How do we know if what we think is really true?
So many versions, tales told long ago.
Maybe our role is simple.
It's your story, tell it your way

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