All day long
If I’m not grounded
(Like a balloon in someone’s hand)
My thoughts expand collide and crash
And woman men and kids alike
Have turned to beautiful people
How I wish I could wrap them
In my palms and write them
On my sterile white washed walls
You are authentic and I worry
I will fail to capture
Your moment
Of frank humanity
And it will forever disappear
Like dandelion seeds puffed goodbye
On the breath of a long forgotton wish.

Categories: Creative Writing, Memories, poetry, prose | Tags: , | Leave a comment

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