the memories throw me back in time,
to days and nights past.
Talking with lost friends,
and walking through fresh green grass,
the memories linger always.
seeing the sun slowly turn my skin beet red,
and the snow chill my blood.
seeing winter's past flit past my eyes,
and flowers bloom and wilt.
seeing words on my computer screen,
typed in earlier days.
the past is a tricky thing,
it lingers with us,
yet we spend our entire lives trying to make it last.
every moment of the past can be preserved in a way,
we just need to try harder to preserve it instead of ourselves.

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Gone Awry (joined almost 9 years ago)

I have been many places, seen many things, been many things as well, but what I shall never stop being, is a writer, a traveler of dreams and the human soul. My name is none of your concern. Call me anything or nothing; I may not answer to anything, or answer to everything.

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Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

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poetry

tags

memories fresh green grass preserve

Prompt

Blank Prompt

Freeform prompt. Every Friday, writers face a blank page without any prompt. They write whatever they want in six minutes or less.
Prompt suggested by Galen

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