The memories fade
The hurt abate
The scars so deep;
The flecks of red
on walls so white.
Sole testimony to the time.
The knowing smiles
The intoxicated wiles
Lie abandoned in the
dustiest attics of our minds
While here I stand
Outside myself
Done and dusted
Weaving tales of a distant time
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 1:49 AM UTC
The memories fade
The hurt abate
The scars so deep;
The flecks of red
on walls so white.
Sole testimony to the time.
The knowing smiles
The intoxicated wiles
Lie abandoned in the
dustiest attics of our minds
While here I stand
Outside myself
Done and dusted
Weaving tales of a distant time
