(slight edit)
The days since you
have been more than difficult.
Late summer slides from a
baby blue, cotton-balled sky
into deep autumnal hues.
And I,
like my cats,
want to curl up ontop
a small plot of land
and rest my weary head.
No more beds of orchestrated, -
unparalleled bliss -
but rather the cold, harsh reality
of this dismal life.
It's too early to tell
how you transformed me;
or even how you impacted me.
The mind, still cluttered with lust.
Embark upon this setting road,
stricken with a lack of foresight.
Unguided amidst walls of confusion.
It's not fair that sky is endless,
but our joy is not.
I agree Goldy, it's not fair that the sky is endless! Seasons come and go like us?
wrapped myself up in this like a blanket on a cold day. definitely goldy, Sus. and in bygones...how do? -Tailor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
ah! like lemonade. refreshing