Planes and trains and Rusty cars
so very close and yet so far.
And Old guitars.
Nights spent dancing in the dark.
That time at the opera show
Oh how I wish you wouldn’t go.
Jars of parts and bleeding hearts,
scabbed over cuts and deeper scars
We’ve lost ourselves, from where we start
Sorry to say, Friends grown apart
And the years that carry in between.
So many things I could have been
Seeds and oils and soil and shells.
I’ve lived my life so far not so very well
For better or not,
The seasons will change.
The oceans will swell.
As long as my stories are strange…
Oh this life, I’ll be here to write down my memories to tell
Dreams and queens
And Fields of bloom
And your Stories of how you touched the moon
I only laugh along because I know I’ll soon be there too – with you
By Shawnna Burt