Flashback To Fridays
Flashback to Fridays when I was a wanted guest
a common companion strolling the riverside
with more than just the moon willing to chat
where words resonated with hand-cut diamonds
lighting up my vision and your restful eyes
where missed lessons were backtracked
and praise was left to pigeons hiding
in the shadows pretending not to be seen
Harlequin days have passed us on by
and what once were sailboat dreams
have quietly motored ahead
I'm relegated to slip silently in the cracks
chasing down demons with a crooked stick
fighting off the famine in air too thick
left with thoughts lingering in a darkened sky
broken in heart and spirit I'm left to die
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017
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