Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Sunday, March 08, 2015


Feather from an angel,
a petal from a rose,
memories of a dream
is how this story goes.
The evening is upon us
another passing day,
my head  upon the pillow
to dream heartache away.

I file memories according to their importance
and recall memories with the greatest impact.
Caring equals love and
than there is everything else.
I saw the petals of a rose in all its glory,
the fragrance a scent of heaven
and than I watched the petals
crumble and the scent fade.
To turn off the tears one must never again feel...that is impossible.
Worse than the chill from the cold,
is the chill brought by your absence.
Screams in silence...

I feel five years old " life is not fear"

Of course others have it worse,
but there are others who have it better.



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