There are times when I need a distraction
from days, heavy, when there is no satisfaction.
Yet these days, to climb above, seem so high
and with every step, time just seems to slip by
leaving so very little –hardly a trace
of what once existed in that place,
one’s secret, sacred room – memory’s hoard
where all of one’s experiences are stored.
Sometimes offered up in times of reminiscing
of what once was, but now seems to be missing
in a life that now only offers up reflections
of times of love, of joys and of rejections.
One try’s, and offers up their very best,
for others, only having been their guest.
Life’s journeys ?, life’s adventures ?, a quest
to become as one, to be whole
but in the end !, never to know
what lies beneath, never to show
where it is ?, that we surly will go.
B. J. “A” 2
May 16th, 2013