Life Is Just a Winding Road
Longing to feel your clement breath
while reading your letters in the sand,
you write about premature death
a life taken by one’s own hand.
The whole world knows it’s sometimes hard
to put on a face and face the day,
life isn’t about the right card
or the way one needs to play.
For here alone I need time to think
while straying not from vigilance,
recollecting life in the pink
after years of assertive innocence…
© Harry J Horsman 1996
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