Roof top ceilings above my world with sunshine and darkness within the scenes of our ongoing past and along with the language that feed my soul and the little bits of history that play within my mind, and how I enjoy these travels of our simple past, that my soul sheds tears for loss of a scene within our history, lost to a more glorious past, to a place unknown, but as I close my eyes and again look through the window over the roof top of memories, I feel the joy to live again within our soul, the roof tops scenes of our past, the ceilings of our world.
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Author:
jlmoreno9929 (
Offline) - Published: January 27th, 2011 23:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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Comments1
Interesting. Fascinating perspective on our lives from the vantage point of now, standing on the rooftop looking back...down. I enjoyed it.
I'm glad, thank you
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