Pictorial Prose dances to the rhythm of the soul and the magic of nature. Each day is a journey through life and with it a view of the wonder and joy of the heart and mind with an explosion of passion and desire. The opposite of to live is to ...
Friday, February 15, 2008
Memory
Time speaks the truth; I cannot deny who traveled with me both day and night. A fond memory is what I recall, you told me it would fade but that was some long haul. I tried to hold him to force my embrace but his life had no room, as the decision was long ago set in place. You can’t make a person look in your eyes, you can’t give your heart if his shield is set on high. Call it a chapter, call it a day, or maybe a memory that won’t fade away.
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