Memos from the Middle

Smack-Dab in the Middle of Living

Dark Spot

The peace crept away little by little
on the backs of words felt but unspoken.
Dusty dreams line the corridors of memory,
too close to forget, too far to realize,
as we teeter on the edge of delusion,
a balance beam of life.

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Posted in Poetry and tagged delusion, depression, dreams, life, personal, poetry

3 thoughts on “Dark Spot”

Scribbler on September 28, 2012 at 9:18 pm said:

Beautiful poem!

Adieu, scribbler

Reply ↓
- Too Young to Feel Old on September 29, 2012 at 7:45 am said:
  
  Thanks!
  
  Reply ↓
  - Scribbler on September 29, 2012 at 1:56 pm said:
    
    My pleasure!
    
    Adieu, scribbler
    
    Reply ↓

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