We burry ghosts of hearts where our minds won't tread.
We speak the language of now in hope like the rest.
We die in the absence of each other's warmth.
We cross paths only in the depths of our memories.
Pictures appear not physically,
Mentally.
My life is flawed.

We travel through time with lies.
What appears real is only real in lies.
Rain falls different through different regions.
My mind echoes with a name I once claimed kiddish.
My life is flawed.

The sweet daffodil from the garden grew better with time,
The petals look vibrant and bright.
The yes became a no,
The no felt too cold.
My life is flawed.