Memories From a Muddled Mind

As I sit brooding over my tea I picture once more the solemn sight of a streetlamp going dim the same beacon of hope that previously fueled the ramblings inside my addled mind now a ghost a shadow of it’s past I imagine again the clothesline that was once the structure for a fortress so flimsy in it’s cottenness yet strong from our beliefs today it lies forgotten in a garden ransacked by time bleached by an unforgiving sun for eternity it shall rot until revived by some memory and brought back into the foreground of my delusional psyche.