Sunday, October 17, 2004
Memories. More bitter than sweet.
You have all but faded into the dusk.
What can we do with memories -
store them neatly in small
dark crevices of our minds,
or take them out from time to time
to remind ourselves of happy
times spent silly moments then?
In the quiet nights or lonesome journeys on the bus
I think of you sometimes.
such are the
memories of memories
brimming with tears. everytime
because none of us can turn back time
or change the way things had happened that
afternoon
when you laid there lifeless on that field.
and left everything everyone behind. Your dreams.
your aspirations, too.
You have all but faded into the dusk.
What can we do with memories -
store them neatly in small
dark crevices of our minds,
or take them out from time to time
to remind ourselves of happy
times spent silly moments then?
In the quiet nights or lonesome journeys on the bus
I think of you sometimes.
such are the
memories of memories
brimming with tears. everytime
because none of us can turn back time
or change the way things had happened that
afternoon
when you laid there lifeless on that field.
and left everything everyone behind. Your dreams.
your aspirations, too.
