Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Friday, August 19, 2022

The Season for...

 Daisy petals falling down, 

disappear upon the ground. 

Waiting on another day, 

preferably without the rain.


The soul is weighted down

barely able to rebound, 

the clouds a blanket make

to soothe the internal ache.


It could have been a dream

conjured up by memories,

one by one the visuals pass

leaving a void in mass. 


I saw what sunshine can do 

from the heavens a sky of blue,

the laughter and joy fade

only sorrow remains. 


Heard your voice 

and saw your smile,

I kept it near to 

bridge the miles.


Tears swell and fall

you swam in them all,

the heartbreak never fades

to remain till the end of days.


Who could understand

that this was hell's plan,

time's awkward division 

seems to be the mission. 



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