Justifying life’s errors is not what I want to do.
It takes a lot of talent, yet, I need the images to come back so I may write through them once again.
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Shining along walkways, stepping quietly
Benefiting my soul with indefinite perceptionsof ability, facing reality with an astoundingacuity of bereavement, standing in imagination.Winding down through the moments, holdingeverything closely to my heart and soul.
Solitarily finding expectations to conform to, as figures of design combine and collate in patterns of intellect.
Missing them, reminiscing about them in moments of despair as we walk alone without them.Transpiring dreams following us in sleep, during the nights of awakening images, haunting our daydreams as well.
Watching children in my mind, seeing their images traveling forward in time to the present.
Images jumping, shouting, laughing, running – looking at them now, I see myself at play when I was younger and had no worries, because my parents did all the worrying for me back then.