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As shades of grey overwhelm white clouds,
their rain tears begin to pitter and patter,
creating a pattern upon my skin.
Like a dehydrated petal, I taste their
tenderness with the tip of my tongue.
A gypsy breeze kisses my skin's shivers,
as I gaze at my muddy decaying garden -
roses look rusty, but their thorns remain.
As my eyes close in silent stillness,
I'm lost in a melancholic moment -
when I was like a vibrant spring bloom
but I wonder why my roots crumbled.
Life moves so fast,
but some of us struggle to grow.
Some images remain forgotten,
some promises remain broken,
so, I ponder what happened,
to those childhood dreams and schemes -
when the mind cared not for meaning,
only hidden treasures we would find.
How many are still searching,
how many souls are at peace?
How empty is your jar?
Reflecting upon those who arrived,
hardly any stayed - few left an impression -
most left without understanding.
Some still live within boxes of my heart,
especially those who lifted me when I fell,
but there was only a few
and I regret the ones I hurt,
forgive the ones who caused me pain,
but, I shall never forget.
We can never escape our past,
some of us will never really heal,
memories are like lost photos,
stored in a dusty album.
I awaken from my reverie,
as conkers fall at my feet, cracking their spiky shells.
A ray of light breaks from a canopy of leaves,
reflecting upon my face - I begin to a smile.
I can't recall when my bubble floated away,
but, I embrace the rain and what it brings.
I accept what the winds take with them,
because I can feel the warmth of the sun.
Become the gardener of your own life.
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2020
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