Comes and goes,
Like a wave.
Dear memory,
Don't misbehave.
Snippets of what was said,
Only last:
But I remember the ride;
What a blast.
Whispered thoughts:
Telling signs:
I am mute;
But never blind.
Oceans boiling;
A whore To host:
The land mourning,
As it turns to toast..
So here I am,
On my arse.
So to you...
I raise my glass.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 9th, 2025 02:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments3
Which is why I am now forcing myself to record my thoughts and finding a way to retrieve them easily... more than that notebook of (not so) recent fame. Have it read to me or let Siri read it out loud to me at my bidding. Might begin making messages for me for later as well...🙏🏻🕊️
My problem is I forget most of it, in an instant. But I don't mind, his glory goes on, and on, and on.......
Amen! Just tell Siri to activate voice memo recording. It’s much easier to jabber away than to type…
Most interesting how it does in fact come and go. Went to the store to get something and returned with everything but what I went for.
Brother
You're way too fun in this pretty number especially with a delightfully rendered finish as this owns. Charming and yet equally thought-provoking with excellent imagery. Thank you very much for sharing.
Thank you, Missy.
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