limowreck

There are caverns and deep pockets in the ground
as I wander into this place;
a place forgotten to by all except my feet,
which lead me here every now
and again.

This place of childhood, of a time when
innocence wasn't dead,
or even on life support. A time
when I knew peace, but now that peace is
as distant as the memories of my youth.
Far, far away, and still running for its life
that's slowly being strangled
away from the cancer of latter day life.

I climb into an old fort, and I can hear the distant screams
of the laughter we emitted as children.
Just faint echoes of them
so fragile, like stained glass that's been scored
with the blade of forgetfulness.
I wish to retain these memories
while I sit in this fort
with the childlike paintings, and the scattered toys
that have 20 years of dust caking them.

I wish to remember - just to
have a memory - of what
it was like to feel whole again. When the simple act of
breathing didn't ache again.
Its too bad that I can't recall anymore.
So I've shut the door to the fort.
Its time to walk away...
its time to grow up...