Search This Blog:

Monday, November 15, 2021

The solitude of the mountain

The loneliness you cannot see

Summed up to letters and papers

The cheapest things don't come free

 

Night gives our efforts meaning

You sleep with head on familiar pillows

While you are chasing your rabbits 

We sit up chasing our dreams

While we silently prepare those who never dare to dream again

 

We hold our heads high

tassel covers over bloodshot eyes

Our eyes dry from the tears deprived

All meaning lost in the goodbyes 

 

 

 

No comments:

Post a Comment