Sometimes our hearts remember
things even our souls forgot
As I sit here in December
I ask myself "was it all for naught?"
I remember that fling
it seems so long ago.
I don't understand this feeling
and so I just let the words flow.
As time creeps slowly past
and the wings of night fly by,
It's time to put the former last
and stop always asking why.
No more time to analyze.
It's time to stop focusing on the goal.
It's time to soar above the skies;
it's time to trust my soul.
What are your thoughts on this poem?
Until next time,