Smile slips,
Brows crease.
What thoughts do you chase,
Which I can not follow?
Where do you go
When you drift from here?
Is the grass greener,
A finer place than here and now?
Or a grim reality:
Lens dark with anger and fear?
If the former, could I see your vision?
If the latter, could I pull you back,
Had I the words?
So that hand in hand,
We are here.
Together.
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC
Smile slips,
Brows crease.
What thoughts do you chase,
Which I can not follow?
Where do you go
When you drift from here?
Is the grass greener,
A finer place than here and now?
Or a grim reality:
Lens dark with anger and fear?
If the former, could I see your vision?
If the latter, could I pull you back,
Had I the words?
So that hand in hand,
We are here.
Together.
