Sunday, 6 May 2012

Her Existence

It's a projection.                                                                     
Standing aside, 
Moving along, 
Drifting around, 
Strung out, and... 
Seldom adorned.

It's a shadow.
Of yesterdays gone,
When things were deeply mourned,
Happiness was ostentatiously celebrated,
Where matters were imminently important,
and not all worth feeling for, stood mostly dissipated.

It's a blandness.
Wishful respites,
Existing despite,
Thankful abounds,
For that, and...
All decreed.

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