Memories From a Muddled Mind
As I sit brooding over my tea I
picture once more the solemn
sight of a streetlamp going dim
the same beacon of hope that
previously fueled the ramblings
inside my addled mind now
a ghost a shadow of it’s past
I imagine again the clothesline
that was once the structure for a fortress
so flimsy in it’s cottenness yet
strong from our beliefs today it
lies forgotten in a garden ransacked by time
bleached by an unforgiving sun
for eternity it shall rot until
revived by some memory
and brought back into the foreground
of my delusional psyche.
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