Blending Tears
The breeze from the ceiling fan circles my thoughts...
With two forks in the road no turns would be fought...
I stayed straight as possible, but some fruit I had to taste...
Some scars stay unhealed and small tears fell without haste...
With no mirror to see behind, forward is my ony way to fly...
Onto a place in my soul where I never question the why's...
Where I can sit and write without any left over fears...
From of palet of colors I blend with my tears...
Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2012
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