Tomorrows Sorows TodayA Poem by Rory CJ Franksonlosing a heart, in traffic
Previous Version This is a previous version of Tomorrows Sorows Today. End of Tomorrow ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Feelings, had today. A day... in, September. Only the prose Knows... why words, were written. Thusly!
What Dreams May Come: a movie, seen.
Like tempered Art, in measures movement. I'd watch... again and
again. Touches, the one something. I can't explain. In how. With all
the changes, it stays. The same. Those themes created by someones
dream, I can at times equate. What the meanings relate, in the heart. That has rued to say, sadly. The one something, touched by truth. The
wonder, of loves proof. In some. Only to wish, was held... or
granted, to feel its grace. Somehow, touch you. Leave, its trace. Endless cycles seasons. That come and go, in natures surround. And, each of them...
To allow went with deep emotions, move you. With the created seams, in the theme that fooled you, and foster. The love... of your pain. The feel of you, remains. When those days of rain, call out your name... with candid frames. Paint, memories recall. To fall... Into some, lost moment of it all. Again.
Remember to love. The thought, of you...
knowing it matters not, how long it lingers. When reality calls, to dig in its fingers. I recall, those days spent dying by degrees, to forget you. A fantasy... that remains, the same. Only, a half a heart beat, away. They say; Twin Flames
To beat at the sky, and wonder why. It has all somehow lost its luster. How it all had gotten so cluttered and can't, be cleaned away? You living life half a world a way. Separate, in more than time and space. Have erased the mere thought of me.
I sigh, I cry. In another day, dying.
Wasting away each breath, with the thought of this laying behind the
screen, of the emotional streams. Not always presenting themselves,
pleasant. As I pretend, to be whole. Stand upon the knoll eternity...
with my dream, and feel. Empty. As others. Create the
sequence, as real and the players. Making appeals to the soul, and the well of tears. To marvel, at... The Mystical Tour. Imagine. Those of the mundane, that can not attain. Without the inspiration, of The Muse Maiden. Their trigger. Go figure! It out... upon the plain, and ordinary. Way. Just not... today. Hey. It's so complex, I shiver... And shelve them again, for my tomorrows. Sorrows. I'll feel. Come November. Strange days Indeed Eh, Wentworth? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Today Art in Reflection. © 2010 Rory CJ FranksonAuthor's Note
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Added on May 18, 2010Last Updated on May 18, 2010 AuthorRory CJ FranksonVernon, British Colombia, CanadaAboutIt's all about the music really. I'm a Writer / Musician. Write On / Right On! Peace... Romon in Review Out Post & Creative Standard Productions. Romonx Associated Artists Rory CJ Frankson .. more..Writing
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