Thursday, February 7, 2013

platitudes

It's 4 am, I'm alone as the world sleeps in.
Somewhere there are tiny villages of nocturnal bliss
getting ready to close down for the day.

 A whispering voice
in this maddening silence
calls me there
with a spotlight gone astray.

I can't remember any more,
the sweet taste of your decay.
Your internal springtime
has long since
over welcomed it's stay.

Amazing how quickly a childish notion
can reign
and ruin
a life built on wishes.

Juvenile hope
strongly stagnates
the waters
of any innocent age.

Neither of us are innocent.

My smiles are safe now

and it's

finally

over

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