This evening as the frost began to fall, my eyes strained out the window screen and caught the flicker of an incoming message.
While balancing the steering wheel, I unlocked the phone to reveal its message. With it brought back the pain I felt in the summer gone by. Nails shot throughout my body unplugging the half mended wounds. Another soul quoted the words that your friend spoke. The words were I realised your actions would perish me like an apple core. For it was that night you saw my facial reaction of your glance lose its glow. For that night, I lost you. With this message I have had to relive that pain you left there. The pain that made me push your delicate unthoughtful soul from my life. A finish I long envisaged. It left a gap where trust and love once filled. A dearing friendship ripped from the roots with one single plough burrowing through the settled soil. Another road block that pushed its boundaries too far. The tractors wheels once again cultivating the soil for new plantations. Our lips no longer cross these known paths but it appears for once I was right. These lines could not be uncrossed and now this evening, history repeats.
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The flame's blaze doomed by the pollutants flickers,
I stare hoping to catch a glimpse of the future, My eyes weep as they fill with light's bubbles, Colours of the rainbow circle, a state of illusion. An illusion reliant on Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, With a loss of personal motivation I sit here in limbo, The land of the Damned screeches my name, The intensity stacks itself like morning papers outside the corner shop. Pushing those away that care comes so easy, a destructive skill, Attacks fail to focus on one piece, For the puzzle pushes the remaining pieces away, If they are not connected, life's elements have no control. The connecting terminal will not spark or resist, As the holder ensures the connection's failure to patch the line, The engine ticks at its peril, a lonely path, For Maslow's 3rd stage passes in the night. When the foot casts itself over the accelerator, The pushing force receives no restraint, Future needs and desires cannot be categorised, For only the holder can decide what accelerate life's elements. Their impact against the window shield causes no fraction, A small pin sized impression may peach the shield, Overtime it develops, requiring repair or replacement, A clean sweep that provides the holder's vision in their hands. No tarot cards or Mystic Megs foresee what the holder chooses, A game of yes or no, left or right, As my vision darts back to reality, I know the potential paths that lie ahead, But will I answer yes or no, left or right at the next sign? |
Mary DohertyJust a blog to post some of the offerings I create in my spare time. I hope you enjoy! Archives
September 2019
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