are memories filled with regret.
do we tend to waste the alone time we are given?
give me something to believe in.
i’m centered, and as they notice me,
i cease not my flow of comfort,
returning home.
but now as we part, i must show
all the gratitude dwelling in my bones.
i think it’s time to discard our phones.
Luka.
vote
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The idea of progression starts in that metaphor of a burning end .. an end in more ways..
Then there are walls and growth. This is powerful poetry thanks for writing it.
Someone give the man a Bells already!!
Thank you! There are many 'ends' we come across, things wilting, all of which we transcend with time - growth is always!
Poetsunited - DISCORD - @poetsunited - witness upvote@trumanity upvoted this post via @poetsunit!!