Entwined inside, twine that's mine

back to the grind, feeling like I need to find

here I stop to think, what

just a feeling, peeling back the layers of memory

hiding behind the picture, quite still, and comfortable

clear as the high skies, as a crystal seen through my eyes

there, there was a time

putting it all together, would've been a crime

watching it unfold, time to unwind

this secret I keep entwined, mine

do I feel pain, knowing that it all ends the same

packed away, alone I stay

its better this way

Reviews

[Rufus Montgomery Jr]

I wish I could write Poetry. Everyone tends to die in my stories. Loving your work!

[JacobMarloe]

Thanks. You already have an excellent talent for writing the fact that your characters die is perhaps just a reflection of the reality that awaits everyone fictional or not.