The remainsA Poem by black.butterflyThe remains
The year flies as months turn to days; my heartbeat--a ticking clock for a final countdown, as my life flashes in preposterous ways and reunites with the words at my provincial town.
Although pampered with literary passion, I am suddenly forged through maturity, learning how to swim by old fashion to find my way to the shore of security.
My heart floats like white sea foam in tenacious reminisce of all that remains; all the sadness that is taking me back home as the ever-changing sky rains.
As I reach the end I don't recognize faces, my lips no longer speak with hesitation and my heart no longer races. The words were my last salvation. © 2012 black.butterflyAuthor's Note
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9 Reviews Added on January 26, 2012 Last Updated on January 26, 2012 Author
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