murphy
Wanted: stable environment
social circle for formless
transient soul.
Lost horizons
Are stored in the same
Locked cabinet
As broken dreams and promises.
Sunglasses share the bottom drawer
With lighters and unpaired socks.
The name on the door
Barely recognizable
The marker used
Long since faded under the blazing sun.
Hard to believe -
But reality exists
Between the cotton
That plugs my ears.
What if happy endings do really happen?
No comments:
Post a Comment