And Her....too
once again you stroll
an old boulevard with no changes
of its landscapes
huge acacia trees
a hundred years old
a memory of the nuns
teaching the catholic religion
the same patches of grass
and same old towers
watching the sea from pirates
of old
kidnappings of maiden
fair and brown
you take the walk
at dusk and you breathe the
smell of the past
relieving the lungs like trees
all roots and no branches or leaves
you remember
this is what you do
always remembering and savoring
the memories
there is a tinge of pain but it is as sweet
as each syllable
in your poem.
the boulevard lights begin
to die and you meet faces
smiling at you
but you go beyond what is there
piercing
the ears of the past
wanting to hear
how it sounded
the pain inflicted
the love disregarded
there is so much talking
so many persons inside you
sigh, you take the walk
again, you move on without looking back
as to who is following who
and whom
the rain falls
and you take shelter on a closed bar
across the road
he is sleeping on a chair
and someone wakes him up
for he is too drunk and lost
you think that you could have been him
you shrug your shoulders
no, it isn't
you call a cab and you take the ride
now you are on your own
self-made
perhaps too selfish but no, no, no.
it is a bright day now
and you look forward to going home
where she is always waiting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Shadows And Tall Trees
Back to the cold restless streets at night
I talk to myself about tomorrow night
Walls of white protest
A gravestone in name
Who is it now
It's always the same
Who is it now
Who calls me inside
Are the leaves on the trees
Just living disguise
I walk sweet rain tragicomedy
I'll walk home again
to the street melody
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Life through a window
Discoloured pain
Mrs. Brown's washing is always the same
I walk street rain tragicomedy
I'll walk home again
to the street melody
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
(Out there)
Do you feel in me...
Anything redeeming
Any worthwhile feeling
Is love like a tightrope
Hanging from the ceiling
But I know, oh no
But I know, oh no
But I know...
Shadows and Tall Trees
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dawning
it is dawning
gray wraps the trees and grass in black
as i walk along this boulevard
the light comes
thru the shutters of the clouds
this morning
rays like hands touch me
there is warmth
spreading on my face
there is fire
in my heart
i look at the stretch of
of acacia trees where the street lights
slowly close one by one
and at this moment
the years spread themselves
like some green grass
where i rest my weary soul
in my mind
i always remember you
on my side i can stll feel the warmth
of your skin
it simply dawned in me
the fire of yesterday
and the coldness was gone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadows & Tall Trees
Back to the cold restless streets at night
I talk to myself about tomorrow night.
Walls of white protest, a gravestone in name
Who is it now? its always the same.
Who is it now? who calls me inside
Are the leaves on the trees just a living disguise?
I walk the sweet rain tragicomedy
Ill walk home again to the street melody.
But I know oh no
But I know oh no
I know
Shadows and tall trees
Shadows and tall trees
Life through a window, a discoloured pain
Mrs. browns washing is always the same
I walk the sweet rain tragicomedy
Ill walk home again to the street melody.
But I know oh no
But I know oh no
I know.
(out there)
Do you feel in me, anything redeeming,
Any worthwhile feeling
Is life like a tightrope? hanging on my ceiling.
But I know oh no
But I know oh no
I know
Shadows and tall trees ....
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Retrace
in Dumaguete
at 4 o'clock in the morning
you went out of the ship to take a walk along
the boulevard: an old one
with a story to tell
the one that you like to hear
again and again
this time
the heavy rains intervened
forgivable as it is the first heavy rain in the city
for the past five months
people stand along the side
of the covered pathway
watching
the rain
you sit on one of those benches
where breakfast is served
cheap
fish and rice and coffee
the roof leaks
and drops of rain begins to hit
your shoulder
a man beside you
with some tattoo on his arms
looks at you like you are the man whom
he had been searching
all the years of his life
you stare back
sort of saying
you are not afraid
for this encounter
he looks away knowing that you also know
what betrayal is
what a war is
what killing fields are
he sidesteps your gaze
unzips his fly
and urinates pointing to the heavy rain
this is pure disrespect to the rain
you stop eating
brace the rain beyond the roof
bathes there
and walks away from there
this world is not absurd
it is logical
it knows when to stop and to begin again
when to stare back
when to back off and when to retrace its steps
along the boulevard
now the stories are becoming clear
and then the rain stops
you remember that was the song
precisely the lyrics are intact
but what for? you ask again
over and over again
you are so foolish.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Downhill Path
Life is never a flowering tree and a hurricane snatched some brutality away-
In one sense of the word freedom would rule and
In another, I can only see the rain. I foresee no future-
Only dandelions grow all summer long and
Leaves fall from the maple trees as autumn sets in.
I grew up in a home in which
I often believed I was living in purgatory-
Far away from stars in the sky, although overshadowed by clouds-
The sun always rose at dawn.
Today rain falls upon the essence of time and
I can feel the heat of the brushfires in hell below me
Searing the road I am trying to walk- all uphill with no direction-
I have yet to find my place in this world, in other words, reality-
It hardly matters because behind me exists a downhill path upon
Which I can turn back and walk back upon to the world of my thoughts;
Life has never been a flowering tree and although rain has been said to
Nourish trees and make them grow- fog is dense and I am locked inside
A chamber of madness where the only sounds I can hear and see are
Monstrous beings and voices that cannot be seen or heard by anyone else-
I would pick a bouquet of dandelions in the summer if I believed that
As a gift they could bring joy to somebody- but flowers die soon after they are
Plucked from their mother stems and when all of the flowers have been picked,
All I can see is rolling hills of grass, that is when cloud cover and fog
Become too impenetrable for me to foresee any destiny?
I often wonder if the stars so many speak of truly exist-
If they do so exist, they are many light years away-
Rain is pouring and I can hear the wind, as I walk down that hill where
The world of my fantasies awaits me- there I can find some freedom ruling.
Inside the world of my reverie I cannot fathom what the future holds-
This gives me hope that there is a chance I may someday sit peacefully
Beneath a flowering tree- at dusk looking up towards the sky seeing the stars, and
As past memories dissolve into nothingness and my future remains a mystery to me-
I shall just keep on watching the rain falling- but I am not without hope, as for
Some reason- I know that there is always an end to rain, I have created a world for myself,
And I am certain that the sun shall rise again- even after all of the flowers are gone…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Home Away From Home
I walk down the small path
bordered either side by bluebells.
As I walk down the path
which I have done hundreds of times before.
There is a stirring in the trees,
which prompts my memories,
of faces that have come and gone
over the passing years.
Also comes back the laughter
that never seems to subside
and all the jokes
we’ve played on one another.
I smiled as I stopped for a moment
to look around at everything there.
It seems like only yesterday
that I came along here,
but in reality, the years have flown by.
Some faces I remember
will never be coming back to visit,
while the others I might see someday.
Even when the sad day comes
when I can’t come anymore.
I will leave with many photographs
in my memory store.
A few more steps I take
and the town comes into view
along with friendly faces
on the boardwalks there.
There are a few whose names I forget,
but the faces I know so well
in this little town
I call my home away from home.
15 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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The White Woman At Sunset Boulevard
she was the woman who left me.
She hands me the back of her bones.
she does not bother looking anymore at the past.
she hates me. she detests
every word that i say.
she will not answer my call.
She says i am a liar and had always been lying to her.
The dirt in my arms are terrible, she says, these arms
that used to hold her too tightly that she cannot breathe
are broken branches of the rotten tree.
She walks away towards the dark side of the sunset boulevard, that place unreachable by the night lights. Beyond the hold of my arms, beyond the grasp of my lips.
she already loosened all the screws and bolts of the bicycle
that we used to ride together every afternoon on this sunset boulevard.
all the parts are scattered near the shore of the sea.
The waves reached them and they all get too rusty.
She does not talk to me anymore, this white woman at sunset boulevard.
She walks fast.
She runs.
Her eyes sharp, and flaming with anger against the rage of the dark,
away from the city lights, away from my lies, away from the
warmth of my whisper.
I am her wrath.
I am the source and cause of her anger.
Her pains, her sorrows for years and years when i left her
without leaving any word.
When my name was finally eaten by the waves of the sea in
sunset boulevard. When she drowned.
she left rushing like a storm towards another island.
she destroys houses and
fell the trees.
She goes away just like that, as quickly as suddenly
as a gnashing teeth of the cyclone.
I whispered her name to calm her down.
She hurriedly left.
She did not see that tears too that fell to the sand. They are mine. Salty, fresh tears. Hidden inside my bags for years. Twenty-five years of solitude.
More than that for my loneliness on an unknown island where i was stranded beyond my power. There was not a single boat to take me to her.
She did not
look back. She would not believe me.
But she is right.
My tears are not as salty as the whole sea that she swallowed when she drowned on that very day when i left her.
I have not
given her the reason. I have them ready from the bottom of my heart.
She tells her friends:
She does not want to be duped again. One of me, is enough.She is gone.
I happened to her once in her lifetime. She, is likewise.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking At The Rain
Looking at the rain
Feeling the pain
Of love lost running though
My brain
Looking at the wind
Watching it spin
The leaves along the street
You win
Waiting for a line to fall
Telling you its all a big mistake
Looking at a face
So out of place
Inside that picture frame
Of lace
Looking at the wall
Wishing youd call
And tell me youre ok
Thats all
Wishing this was all a dream
And Id find you sleeping when I wake
Looking at the trees
So ill at ease
From sleep that will not come
Thats me
Looking at the dawn
Knowing its wrong
Still thinking of your love
Thats gone
Wishing this was all a dream
And Id find you sleeping when I wake
Looking at the rain
Feeling the pain
Of love lost running though
My brain
Looking at the wind
Watching it spin
The leaves along the street
You win
Waiting for a line to fall
Telling you its all a big mistake
But the words wont come
I know Id feel the same
Looking at the rain
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Of Trees
He was the king of trees
Keeper of the leaves
A deep green God of young
Love stained memory
We used to meet by him
Far from the hustling town
I loved you
Now theyve come to cut you down
..down
He was the guardian of days
We held the same
Beneath the shade he gave
Shelter from the rain
Oh lord how its empty now
With nothing save the breeze
Now theyve come to burn the leaves
Dont burn the leaves
And if my mind breaks up
In all so many ways
I know the meaning of
The words I love you
And if my body falls inside
An early grave
The forest and the evergreens
Are coming to take me back
So slowly as I roll
Down the track
The forest and the evergreens
Are coming to take me back
The forest and the evergreens
Are coming to take me back
Please take me back
He was the king of trees
Keeper of the glades
The way he enchanted my life
Makes me so amazed
We used to meet by him
Many years ago
I love you
Now theyve come to lay the road
Dont lay the road
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walk To The Light
(walt aldridge)
Ive never been one to believe much in ghosts,
But to tell you the truth now, my mind is not closed.
Ive heard there are souls that are lost in between
Somewhere theyre goin, and the places theyve been.
That sounds a lot like a woman I know,
Her love is long gone, but she will not let go.
Somebody oughtta take her by the hand and tell her,
dont be afraid, just walk to the light.
Let go of the past and get on with your life.
Somebodys waiting out in the night,
Ashes to ashes, walk to the light.
Now I understand that some things can take time,
Especially those of the heart grievin kind.
But there comes a point youve got to move on ahead,
Read the last rites and bury the dead.
Said she cant make the journey to get past the pain.
She moans in the night and she rattles her chains.
Somebody oughtta take her in their arms and tell her,
dont be afraid, just walk to the light.
Let go of the past and get on with your life.
Somebodys waitin out in the night,
Ashes to ashes, walk to the light.
Oh, dont be afraid of the choices that you made,
The choices are behind you.
When you give in, the healin can begin,
Love is gonna find you.
Dont be afraid, just walk to the light.
Let go of the past and get on with your life.
Somebodys waitin out in the night,
Ashes to ashes,
Oh, oh, dont be afraid just walk to the light,
Let go of the past and get on with your life.
Someone is waiting out in the night,
Ashes to ashes, walk to the light.
Walk to the light.
Walk to the light.
song performed by by Jo Dee Messina
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Always Remember Me
When the trees have gone
and the streams have sang heir last song
Remember me
As the rain falls through the neverending night
and the wolf calls for the gift of dawn
Remember me
When the flowers bloom their heads lift high
and the moon rises like a phantom in the sky
Remember me
When the stars shine bright
and sadness strikes you with all its might
Remember me
When all hope has vanished
and joy has been banished
Remember me
As life takes its last breath
and death plagues the world
Remember me
As love is spirited away
and anger and sadness are to blame
Remember me
When memories are the only path left to walk
and the past becomes the present
Remember me
When the cry of freedom is silenced
and the winds laughter rings no more
Remember me
As lovers meet for the last time
and friends must say goodbye forever
Remember me
As the seas groan with the memories of war
and the willows whisper on the shores of sorrow
Remember me
When the earth is bowed in despair
and dreams lie broken in your heart
Remember me
When eternity is only one day more
and all that was is no more
Always remember
For I'll be with you in your memories
Always watching over you
poem by Holly Morgan
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Dead Man's Rope
A million footsteps, this left foot drags behind my right
But I keep walking, from daybreak 'til the falling night
And as days turn into weeks and years
And years turn into lifetimes
I just keep walking, like I've been walking for a thousand years
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
If you're walking to escape, to escape from your affliction
You'd be walking in a great circle, a circle of addiction
Did you ever wonder what you'd been carrying since the world was black?
You see yourself in a looking glass with a tombstone on your back
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away in anger, walk away in pain
Walk away from life itself, walk into the rain
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
I'm just hanging here in space
Now I'm suspended between my darkest fears and dearest hope
Yes I've been walking, now I'm hanging from a dead man's rope
With Hell below me, and Heaven in the sky above
I've been walking, I've been walking away from Jesus' love
Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away in anger, walk away in pain
Walk away from life itself, walk into the rain
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
I'm just hanging here in space
The shadows fall
Around my bed
When the hand of an angel,
The hand of an angel is reaching down above my head
All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Song
Leaves of brown they fall to the ground
And its here, over there leaves around
Shut the door, dim the lights and relax
What is more, your desire or the facts
Pitter patter the rain falling down
Little glamor sun coming round
Take a walk when autumn comes to town
Little stroll past the house on the hill
Some more coal on the fire will do well
And in a week or two itll be halloween
Set the page and the stage for the scene
Little game the children will play
And as we watch them while time away
Look at me and take my breath away yeah
Youll be smiling eyes beguilding
And the song on the breeze
Will call my name out and your dream
Chestnuts roasting outside as you walk
With your love by your side
The old accordion man plays mellow and bright
And you go home in the crispness of the night
Little later friends will be along
And if you feel like joining the throng
Just might feel like singing autumn song
Just may feel like singing autumn song
Youll be smiling
Eyes beguilding
And the song on the breeze
Calls my name out in your dream
Chestnuts roasting outside
As you walk with your love by your side
And the old accordion plays mellow and bright
And you go home in the crispness of the night
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Love That I Want To Forget
a stain in my heart
for years
irremovable and so i let it stay
like a scar, now smooth and
so persistent that it appears like
a birthmark
to my pain, years back, when i still believed in love
when i was still enticed by the whims of
affections
my heart groggy with care
and drunk with promises of unchange and
landscapes of eternity
nothing lasts perhaps except the scars
the wound, true, they heal
and close themselves in like a room locked
with secrets and trunks
closed and covered with dusts
on the mezzanine floor
but on this day i remember things
with a welcome of my arms
sweet pain, tender memories
face of an innocent woman on the
shores unboulevarded yet
soft breeze of the past seas
salty tears on ephemeral cheeks
with dimples like
lines on the pink corners of
the orchids
on this day i may remember the faces
but i am numb and i do not
remember the intimacies anymore
on this day, i am free and so
in love with you
your hands are so soft, sweet,
your lips so luscious and wet and
flavored with scarlet desires
you are my present melody
and i am singing you from the deepest
chambers of my heart
you are so real, and i am so alive.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her Old Argument
we meet as old trees with roots deep on the ground.
twigs are trunks and leaves if they fall do not come back to hang back.
do not look for meanings, they are all there already
when we meet as old trees
when we agree that we meet as old trees so there will be no
compromise that you change that i change
that we become like each other in color and perceptions
what you see is what you get, that is your oldest premise
and i jump into conclusions: i am free, you are freedom.
somewhere, i also cannot bend as you keep that bent posture
when we meet as trees old enough to understand the spread of
our respective roots.
'you cannot change me, you can only love me' your ending statement.
' i give up the search for the idea, i stay put' my conclusion.
The pavement is so dry. There is no rain. I hear nothing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn Swing
Back to the back
Undo and tracking our footprints
Printed on the sand of time
Reached and stopped at one point
The beginning of earliest thing
Our first meet and Hello greet
Hello world
We keen seed a plant
Sprout the moment, the lesson start
Water my soul you bring me light
With you the life we ride
Deep in core, inside
Grows to root in heart
Hello world
It's been many years we had
But seems like yesterday we been here
The wind still calm, loyal visit our garden
Hope all season life still evergreen not frozen
Time goes fast like a smoke
Thick, thin, disappear
We smile we cry, branching emotion in vessels
Patiently we waiting to smell the scent of happy
Life not easy but we learn new lesson daily
Branches becomes stronger day by day
Stronger construct history today
Dig deep by root, taller, up by shoot
Life so mystery but can be understood
Green leaf symbols of living
Each one, each day we been talking
One day we gained or leaving
Day by day, Oh World
Who thought we passed years
We changed by now and we still
To be now a shady tree
Against the storm or a safe home
The best shelter of nightingale
And we learn how to sing beautiful tale
At least apples ripen accompany
Time running just like a smoke
Dense, smear, disappear
Now, here, today will be another memory
Seasons of life, chapter of our story
Green leaf will change to yellow or brown glory
Feel blue, past leave yellow history
Time so fast, if wrong, say my sorry
Green leaves won't leave a grieve
Together this color we folded in our lifestory
Enveloped in leaves of remembrance
And sand of time bringing changes again
Seal with red to yellow, fade out the blue
The old green one day be the past hue
Gentle breeze drift them away
Fall down, the leaves
fall me with the miss
As the autumn comes again
The memories fly away
We missing and missed
but the wind we love still
The moments we now shared
Rooted in heart, ever-last to exhale
The joy, the smile, the cry and pain
In each branches, vessel and vein
We passed the past, memory make it last
The colors only changed but still so intense
All...Enveloped in leaves of remembrance
Just not green only red or yellow remain
Once we live it fresh as green but now
To the red, brown to yellow it changed
I sat and think life is about to change
The significant why memory remain
Autumn wind take all away
Falling all the red leaves
Falling me, for something i missed
The wind touch again, on this skin
Kiss me cold remind, warm past rewind
But this life-tales we love still
Autumn come again to swing this feel
Hello world,
The seed we plant
Swing me back to memories
When the first time i touch life flowers
I enjoyed and sweetly cry
When the branches broken in vein
I cried my salty cry
Now i learn shoot will replace anew
As new day we keep growing too
The lost green will fade away
The past cant forever stay
We might lost beautiful red, yellow part
But forever memory warming in my heart
I will remember as blue disperse remarks.
Falling down those leaves
falling me, this miss
All behind was around and round
Leaves falling down on the ground
Like our memories, matured, beautiful brown
I'll wait for the time, when everything is back
Beginning of a new story
For new branches to grow
And bring green back home
I smiled and creating new footprints to remember
...........for one day i will return
: : : : : : : : Theme: Memory, Time and Dedication: : : : : : : : : Meaning: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
The poem is about these three things, i make it to tell in diverse meaning..hope fully it works
1. The memory and story of life that symbolized as a leaf..losing it may cause a miss
2. The time, is like the story of our life and history...Hello is intro when we was born and life
bring some another greet as we grow and changed by time
3. Dedication to a friend, which evergreen in heart
I imagine that we start something like a hello, we plant it and grow
deep in heart...
Autumn Swing is about...
'what all of us having now, current is green..so fresh color of living..this moment we are constructing memories for old days sooner...Then the memories in the making are green as it in present tense and all folded in a leaf...The green will fade as time we will leave...it turn to yellow, red and brown (color of memory) we miss the blue (color of peace) ..The green colors have two complexions (element of green=blue+yellow) mean (live in current=peace and memory. As the leaf lost the green and turn yellow, it means the blue and memory depart each other...When the autumn comes, the wind blows and the leave fall...the fall of the leave=miss because the memory just far away from tree which planted in heart..deep rooted in heart :)
The colors, from green to red-yellow fade to blue meaning as well as this
(blue+yellow=green) ...blue=serene, yellow=memory, green=life and fresh. Hope you can feel connected to one of these or any reason
Thanks for reading and Autumn just coming, enjoy it..! ! Keep smiling
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
poem by Unwritten Soul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In A Motel Parking Lot, Thinking Of Dr. Williams
I.
The poem is important, but
not more than the people
whose survival it serves,
one of the necessities, so they may
speak what is true, and have
the patience for beauty: the weighted
grainfield, the shady street,
the well-laid stone and the changing tree
whose branches spread above.
For want of songs and stories
they have dug away the soil,
paved over what is left,
set up their perfunctory walls
in tribute to no god,
for the love of no man or woman,
so that the good that was here
cannot be called back
except by long waiting, by great
sorrows remembered and to come
by invoking the thunderstones
of the world, and the vivid air.
II.
The poem is important,
as the want of it
proves. It is the stewardship
of its own possibility,
the past remembering itself
in the presence of
the present, the power learned
and handed down to see
what is present
and what is not: the pavement
laid down and walked over
regardlessly--by exiles, here
only because they are passing.
Oh, remember the oaks that were
here, the leaves, purple and brown,
falling, the nuthatches walking
headfirst down the trunks,
crying "onc! onc!" in the brightness
as they are doing now
in the cemetery across the street
where the past and the dead
keep each other. To remember,
to hear and remember, is to stop
and walk on again
to a livelier, surer measure.
It is dangerous
to remember the past only
for its own sake, dangerous
to deliver a message
you did not get.
poem by Wendell Berry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Boulevard Maria Luiza
On the boulevard maria Luiza,
such people can not remember the way home
miss rocked
on a lasting footprints in the snow
Who are you waiting for?
on the boulevard maria Luiza
soon, mercury begin to glow
ordain love a pair of teenagers
rusty hunting season
in the glasses of alcohol and cheese
do you still endure for standing there?
on the boulevard maria Luiza
afternoon reincarnate without stories
no one
no admonished said
Sofia, march 2010
poem by Jarot Sujarwo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind
There are winds out there, they cause the windows and doors to move.
They have their own language.
This is not as easy as stealing from the blind.
As I walk through forests the trees seem to move behind me.
The splittered woood has not been made into books.
The muddy path pulses, a second birth.
This is not real, these are things inside of me,
ice on branches, sleet on frozen ground, words as rain.
They circle around me like cold, brown leaves.
poem by Leslie Philibert
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My Memories
Today will be a memory
yesterday is a memory drifting away
memories turn into tears,
tearing us apart.
Fear of moving on, afraid of change,
in a minute this will just be a memory
memories are all pain in vain
memories are like dreams, a reflection of the past.
Memories are vision of what it used to be.
my memories are sadness and struggle
what are yours?
are they sadness and struggle?
You are but a memory
that dwindles as each day passes me by.
and as you slowly vanish
I huddle in my room and cry.
A memory that’s all I have
that’s all that’s left of you
nothing but a mere memory
that still lingers, only for a little while longer in my head.
Don’t forget about the past
without memories there is no yesterday.
make every day one to remember a
memory to move on with no pain or anymore regrets
poem by Ralph Acosta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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