Gone

Dreams are figments of our imaginations, born and bred of our experiences, yet I feel like I'm waiting too much for something that's not there anymore.

There was peace,

There was beauty,

Where did it disappear?

I was probably happy,

I was probably free.

There were poppies,

Plenty of them.

White and pure.

Blue skies, 

Smothered with sun.

A warmth, 

A flame,

Gone.

Extinguished.

Like a cold bucket, 

Of water.

Sprayed much too soon.

A gentle breeze,

Quiet hums,

And beautiful music.

I miss it so much,

Can't seem to reach it.

Like rain,

Evaporated into air.

Its really,

Not fair.

Reviews

[Jade]

agreed, a poem of longing, This is a really good write.

[John the Baptist]

A poem of longing, but for what we are not sure. Even the speaker doesn't seem to be totally certain, only that whatever it was is now gone. The lost Eden? Childhood? It's a mystery. Liked the brevity and spare wording.