There are many of bound books

one could caresses; finger pointedly

beyond their dusty picturesque

but inside we find, the real stories

that brings a heart to life, happiness

Immersing yourself within their lines

As if it were a warm spring of ink

to soak our worried and battered soul


Like a character living the plights

We shed the tears, the smiles- the loss

live in confusion of clouds- dismay

The highs, the lows- and bitter falls

all while our longing grows on

awaiting to be read in the hands

of someone that comes along

to write us our happy ever after end


Like an atmospheric river lose

you unmistakably fall on me, all at once

breaching any and all hoped truce

and I slowly drown in our memories

as the currents of sadness- tugs

like ghostly hands upon my feet

until I surrender all myself- up

to lifelessly flow away in my grief

having realized, I’m left…unscripted


Poet of the Light © 2019

9 thoughts on “Footnote

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