#405 – beneath the floorboards

beneath the floorboards

  

is it too late

to be great

to circumvent

the wasted time

twisting up

my fate

 

have my dreams

once fresh

like fruit plucked

from the vine

spoiled

in the hiding places

beneath

the floorboards

of my mind

 

is what’s left

a desperate grab

to extinguish

my regret

or can I find

a stone

to carve my

life in permanent

silhouette

 

where

my prayers

leave crystals

in the sand

for futures

to reflect

 

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About Blackbird

Poet, sculptor, writer, spouse, parent, crazy person - not necessarily in that order.
This entry was posted in Aging, Dreams, Future, Growing Older, Hope, Lessons, Life, Poetry, Regret, Time and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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