Art, Life

Real

flowers bike 029

It was easy once

When I was young

And didn’t know.

*

Words that were everything

And nothing

Tumbled from half-parted lips.

*

Misunderstanding

Deforested acres

For fragrant missives

Carried next to a heart

That fluttered deliciously

If erroneously.

*

Wanting to believe

I believed they believed themselves

And let myself be fooled.

Wanting to belong

I willingly became

A belonging.

*

It isn’t easy now.

The words won’t come

In face of the real

I am rendered dumb.

2 thoughts on “Real”

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