I fear my memories have become
The summer of my days
Slowly fades like the falling leaves
Now hidden under a cold winters
Breaks stronger with the passage of
The mirror of my life
dances a delicate map in my
Oh would that I could hold on to
Each passing day slowly clutches
them into darkness.
The greedy hand clasps who I was
Offering no mercy
I am but a shard of mirror now.
Copyright © Laura Hassell