It Can't Be True

I lay my head in hand
and go blank with tears that slide slowly down to burgundy sheets.

Somewhere near, in my memories,
The fog lay its chords down like fingers
On the neck of a good guitar.
Feel it cool and smooth in my hand
Worn in familiar ways like a friend,
The lone survivor of the war.

So much of my life is nothing more than a simplistic soundtrack
stretching backward in lost faded pictures
and home movies that ended up in someone else’s trash.
I know…You keep your memories in your heart
and hope you memorized the lines well enough to recite them
with truth and conviction, no additions or subtractions
without outside addictions or distractions.

Where will I go when I raise my head? 
There, in someone else’s town,
I’ll learn to forget
And echo children’s smiles until the morning comes
Without fog and the music is mine again.
I’ll sing your song, remember your smile
Under the full moon of a new year come to stay.

Reviews

[Emily B]

No more smiles, only echoes of smiles. That may be the strongest, saddest image all the way through. There in someone else's town, where you'll pretend that you're learning to forget.

There is so much raw emotion in these words. This is a beautiful write, I hope it isn't your loss described in the lines.

[Angelheaded Hipster]

This is moving....so descriptive...almost lyrical, country like....I don't like country...but this, I could listen to, and drink to. I can almost see the video.....the home movies, played in an empty house, empty walls, with a shadowed figure walking out the door, not looking back.
With head held high, though, you can make it to another time, another place. The piece is bleak, but damn it is tasty!
To think of it....actually...the write is almost haunting. Bravo!