Micro-Poetry #7



Evolving memories,


Into confusion, beyond sanity:

A bottomless pit in which solitude

Is the only entity.



I turned to you and kissed your lips,

Though only in my imagination.

The truth ran through me,

Iced like a lake in winter –

Freezing the warmth;

Reminding me that you are nothing

But a memory I visit much too often.



Forming clouds gathered among blueness,

Falling freely among prosperity,

Among the starry nights

And sunny days.

But when triumph gathers at hell’s gate,

Freedom is within an inch of your finances.

Tell us what you thought:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s