Soloist
Flying solo against the wind
a weary hurt that time cannot mend,
a nostalgic manifestation that hangs in the backdrop of
rebuilding a life once lost,
slowly it drifts into obscurity,
what once was will never be again,
that’s the beauty and irony of living,
slowly I will find myself again but I will never be alive.
Copyright © Karin Rodriguez | Year Posted 2010
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