poetry & things


Days were like honey, even sweeter than golden suns

you were laughing in rainbows – colorfully ever undone

dancing in meadows, and mornings

to bloom again

Your eyes of silver spun light, did shine

flashes of soul, glowing pieces of amber nights

Voices of angels sang you to sleep in peace

Remembering all the places you’ve ever felt love

with letters in boxes you’ve looked upon

Days are just pages, they burn into ashes that blow in the wind

all of these days, where do they

begin and end?

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