Teardrops on a spiral notebook echo days long gone;
Memories treasured, then mistook; how could I have been wrong?
Destiny is all but faded, lost without a trace,
Life has quickly become jaded; thus, emotions race.
Teardrops on a spiral notebook, flowing like a stream;
Fluid, like a babbling brook made for forgotten dreams.
Plans once set are all but broken, as if nothing mattered;
Hope: the only lasting token, in a life now shattered.
Teardrops on a spiral notebook; its pages marred and stained,
Cluttered by much gobbledygook until no worth remained.
Beauty, now replaced by sorrow has become the trend;
Yet, when I awake tomorrow, I will find a friend.
Teardrops on a spiral notebook, each is sure to dry;
Memories treasured, then mistook, are bound to days gone by.
Destiny seemed all but faded; yet, I'm filled with pride;
I know life cannot stay this jaded with God by my side.
© 2008 – Jill Eisnaugle’s Poetry Collection
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