Life seems a bit brittle
like play dough left a little
too long in the baking
afternoon sun.
It used to be pliable,
stretching out
in search of fun,
but now my cookie cutter dreams
don’t seem to please me or anyone.
I find the dinosaurs and stars
just don’t cut it anymore.
I want more.
I want that photograph
I once saw,
the black and white Polaroid,
a memory of a day
where love was sure.
A picture that is now stored,
sepia faded by the strains of time
in a chained-up box
deep within the hidden corners of my mind.
I dream of kitchenware aisles
with you by my side.
I dream of overcoming obstacles
hand in hand, as over them
we help each other climb,
instead of always fighting myself
to get it done alone.
I dream of all the time we could spend
and what we could buy with it.
A love held on the shore
lit only by the moon.
But now the play dough of time
is starting to crumble.
The thunderous rumble of the waves
threatening to knock down
these sandy dreams.
Its obscene to me that we sit
in so much awe of the clock,
awaiting each tick
that follows every tock.
Never tipping our hats
to the time that elapses
as we focus so intently
on all the moving pieces.
I’d rather stop, take stock,
and pour my heart into the depths
to calm the waters
that threaten to overwhelm the decks.
Where we can lay in the summery dreams,
dreams of love shared
in the baking afternoon sun
that streams down upon everyone.
Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff
continue to do this.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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