Summer is the tip
Of a year of work and satisfaction.
A long slide is now ahead
And my hair waiting to fly.
Time sticks to my hands
And I long into it for too long
Its forgotten faces,
the I will never talk to you again,
The let’s hold hands and let’s forget
Make the wrinkles of my young palms.
Tag: past
Surprises from the past
Angry present
The sun shine
But my fire is on
Angry and avid as ever.
Angry for the undetermined present,
Avid for the slowly coming future,
Both out of reach
Although in sight.
Last year
Another year left to the wind
To reach the land
After the mountains.
Time is a bike
That takes you and drops you off
When you feel safe and in charge.