day at the park

June 19, 2012
By pracid_poet BRONZE, Sugar Land, Texas
pracid_poet BRONZE, Sugar Land, Texas
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Will I see her again?
On the road that never ends
Where the path twirls, folds into a maze
Where the sky’s beauty leaves you dazed
Where the trees cluster like an army of barbarians
Where the leaves swim in the wind like guardians
Where the grass flows to the rhythm of the sea
Where the flowers present themselves so gallantly
Where the sun sets to deceive you into a trip
Where the colors at peace are known to be a trick
Where the wind holds you with its cold hand
Where the bench crumbles making you understand
I sit there thinking wondering and pondering
Did I speak to her or did she just walk away
Could we have talked, did I forget to ask her to stay?
Her face is a blur, but I knew she was young
Did she speak to me or was I mistakenly dumb
Was it me, am I old? Could I be? I remember me young
I remember my hair curly and firm
I remember my legs long and stern
Ready to fire its cannon into life itself
With my soul so passionate to only itself
Selfish and capitalist I choose to be corrupt
But l look down to my hands and what do I see?
Old wrinkly fingers, apparently belonging to me


The author's comments:
i thought of it one morning when i woke up and i pictured a scene with an old man sitting in a park, and down the trail, he see's a women far away. he gets so caught up into all of it that he forgets his age.

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