A Wrinkle In Time
Loneliness is: standing on a crowded street corner,
invisible, unheard.
Softer than a rose petal, your tears fall on satin cheeks, unnoticed.
Each tear an interpretation.
Falling, unheeded, liquid sadness.
A ghost in a city filled with life,
destined to walk among the living.
Each step mimics life, bringing you no closer to being.
Like a beacon on a hill, overlooking an ocean of tears, you wait.
Eternity echoes like a heartbeat, filling your ears with hope.
Each moment in time is like forever in a dream.
Endless coffee shops and sidewalk satire,
growing wearing of the chase.
Time catches up, armed with wrinkles and weariness
until one day you look,
and see,
and say,
who am I?
As autumn bows before winter,
youth crumbles before time,
Stamping its foot like a wayward child,
time blinked; its lashes spreading memories across your face.'
"I remember you", it says, scarring your face with experience.
Time unfolds its memories for you to behold.
The lonely path you’ve chosen,
laid bare and vulnerable for all to see.
If only,
I wish,
I should have,
Why did I,
May I go back.
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Copyright © Riss Ryker | Year Posted 2015
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