These are some old clouds
All those stories
Varied so differently
But they all had
A similar ending
And now, few thoughts about time from any1mark66, which is slipping away so rapidly.
Leaving behind nothing but memories which also fades away slowly down the road.
The pause before a sigh
The moment that lingers
Thoughts I wanted to cling
Emotions that should have countered
Snipets of memories
Collections of thoughts
Second hand sweeps them by
Calendar buries them quickly
When the afterglow fades
When the smiles straightens
I search so i’ll know next time
Left grasping sand as it slips away
What once was becomes golden
When is the riddle of the universe
I can remember or so I say
I can not place it in order
Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen
Could of happened, I think
Time is a young man’s game
It gets carried in baskets of hope
We sprinkle it about uncaring
One day we look back
Upon a fleeting path we came
Suddenly the basket has a bottom
We look to replace what was spent
Postcards left as mile markers
Recollections fill in gaps
But the image has lost it’s time
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Once, they were the escaping pods.
All that glitters is not gold.
The small window on the wall gave her some sense about life outside. That’s all she can rest her eyes upon. Those colorless walls made her life colorless but she doesn’t knew about it because she hadn’t seen any color other than yellow sunshine or blue sky or white clouds.
That small window which was kind of a lifeline to her!
I feel the urge to run
Run as fast as I can
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“But no one is looking, dude.”
“Are you nuts? They can still see us!”