In this Moment

Like sand
Words trickle
Through my fingers

How odd
With limitless options
I still can’t find the words.

Nailed to a desk
My hands
Cannot reach you.

Pre and Post
What is time really?
An echo.

Why does life seem like a film?
Running out of control?
Dark plastic in red light.

The warning signs are there
Just too blind
To care.

 

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Published by

opalflame

I am artist, analyst, author, poet, composer, musician to name a few aspects of myself. A bit of a jack of trades, I dabble into many fields that encourage the blossom of imagination and allow me to channel my creativity. I dream vividly and view the world through the lens of optimism and opportunity while acknowledging the ink and shadows.

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