London Poem: Day 175

8 February

We again move in circles,
Bringing life back to
Where it began.
Soft words, to encourage
Or to soften a rough existence,
Didn’t pass between us,
But distance travels in more
Than miles.
As time passes, memories,
Or rather, the mind, becomes
More vivid, romanticizing the
Ease in trivial encounters
As the ease vanishes with
The truth in thought.
I never forgot; I only ran
Out of means to proceed.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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