A stream of memories, thoughts keep swimming past me,
What used to be and what will be, transcends into one sweet melody,
With a voice like a drum that rhytmically pounds to an invisible beat,
And a laughter that sounds like the pluckings of a violin in harmony,
I think of things long past and almost forgotten,
I remember a time when anything seemed possible, anything an option,
Dense as smoke the song sometimes pauses and fades away,
My ideas evaporate into quietness as if they had nothing more to say,
But the rumblings of their snores reminds me that they only lay asleep,
A dormant key to unlock the doors that lay within my minds keep,
© Copyright 2016 A Poets Justice. All rights reserved.
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