Like the swirls in a Van Gogh
No rhyme or reason
But in those moments it all made sense
Dark, hazy blues
Glimmers of moonlight
It was all I needed to get me through
It took just those 96 days to forget
96 days to let him go
96 days to break free
Everything happens for a reason
I see all of mine in those swirls
In those conversations
In the flecks of hope
In those 96 days
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Author:
clarissavibes (
Offline) - Published: May 14th, 2020 21:06
- Comment from author about the poem: Every experience we have has a purpose. You often cannot see what you are supposed to get out of it until it is over. One new flame that could not take hold helped to extinguish one that would not die. I am grateful.
- Category: Unclassified
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