Burnt daydreams, I can smell in the air
The lessons learned are my burden to bear
Memory overload, on a cold winter’s day
If I said I loved you, would it be okay
Blisters get raw, if rubbed too hard
I can go out, but not out of my backyard
The medicine’s bitter, its the price I pay
Out of sync with Eros I don’t have a say
Choking on the fumes, of a burnt daydream
Smile at the camera, my pains on the screen
Hugs and snuggles, it’s my own little way
To say how I need you each and every day…
Walt
A unique outlook on the dreams that fail
take care,
William
Sheila
Alot of wisdom here, Fee. As I've told you before I used to work in a nursing home. I've seen many go back in time from a smell or a memory. Excellent poetry, my friend.
Blessings and hugggs,
~Linda
But you aren't alone, you have plenty of friends, choose one, and let all the *&%$£#.¤ out on her.................or him. LOL
Georg
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :(
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Love ya face Cuz XOXOXO, Rose