In Cinderella Fashion:
Imperative to see what fits familiar feet
with slippered glass and sand blown memories
of times which swift occurred then swept away
the remnants of a luscious perfect day
to wishes in the wells of self-defeat
and tragedy too painful to complete
the harmony eclipsing shadowed moons
to cool the concrete footsteps sunken hewn
It's with this feeling that I trace your steps
and hope to feel emotions that are left
like elements unmoving, set in stone
I feel them beat my heart when I'm alone
and in this solitude I see your face
as real and as alive as my disgrace
from blowing passed integral memories
imperatively set beneath your feet.
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