No reflections of my youthful ire mirror my gaze
As I pass by these cold, motionless paths
Where are the streams that fed my dreams
And led me to icy, thirst-quenching satisfaction
Chase the red hot burn away.
Can you count the eyes that expose one hundred windows to the soul?
Decide those to open and slip away into a lost room where a playful imagination takes flight
Sshh... be still and silent. Be careful, don't reveal the map to the center of our universe.
As you kneel upon the solid platform before your nightly slumber, as for the heavens to impart their blessed.
Your charmed existence of reality brews envy inside of the vast wasteland plaguing where I lie and weep
About the Creator
Connie Martinez
I'm an actor who loves to journal and write poetry. I'm a forty-something divorced woman who is currently single and residing in Philadelphia, PA. My writings tend to be based on very personal, emotionally-charged experiences. Namaste.
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