It’s hard to find oneself

as I look at all these things,

these shadows of

childhood dreams.

Then, they were magic

they had the power to mesmerise.

They lingered under familiar

smells and hands;

a touch that was

so sweet.

Doors opened to a home

that held spring flowers

in its veins.

Fear was unknown.

But now,

they stare back at me

with hollow heirs

telling the truth of life

and unkept promises.

The dreams shattered.

When this globe

hit the floor

never has it been the same.

The glitter leaks out,

the air got in

and all the doors

closed

on vases of dead flowers

as cobwebs grow and

dust descends,

co...

Please subscribe to keep reading.