Nights get longer
Days get shorter Time doesn’t matter Relaxing is a normality Swimming is a luxury Sand beneath your feet become rewards of nature No obligations just blaring music wind blowing through your hair as the car drives fast with the windows down The waiting pays off
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We swore,
We'd find a place to keep, where the streets are paved with gold. Sometimes hope inside, leaves you blind, but being blind is what you need to see, the golden streets inside. When bullets fly, or tears split the sky, think of a place to keep, that you may find, where the streets are paved with gold. Forget the demons, they only exist inside, come walk away to the light of day, for that place, that we'd find, for here is where, the streets are paved with gold. Not some distant destination, "Over there" Look inside, to find this place, where your life can be fulfilled. It is anywhere, anytime, it is where you choose it to be. Authors Note: Happiness is something understood and felt, not given or taken. Your life can be fulfilled and positive if you choose to make it that way, but negative thoughts will only give you more to think negatively about. Do what you love, love what you do, and only do or say things you can live with. And remember, happiness is a journey, not a destination. the Orchid never fully bloomed
the Wind never caught or touched Spring creeping out of reach bright days no more? Sun is sleeping undisturbed the days changing yet holding on to the Orchid the Wind the Sun Spring the new start holding new experiences Are the Orchids and Wind done? Will the Orchids and Wind appear again? a year later is too far to tell year later unknown question lingering Memories of beauty beauty in the Orchids and beauty in the Wind together in-sync a beautiful sunny day farewell to Memories to Sunny days to Spring farewell to Orchids and Wind? scream,
the words from your lips. rupture, the serenity, engulfing you in the flames, of silence. cold, and blue. black, to the core of silence, itself. dark, and frozen through time, you melt. so breathe, so wait, building up. until the time you know, to erupt. fingers, closing around your lips, gasping, for air to fuel the words, waiting, on your tongue, for the moment to strike. but you, can’t, scream. The light of the beating hot sun turns to clouds
Green leaves turn gold and scarlet Air becomes a crisp wind and walks become longer Scents of grilled meat turns to scents of pumpkins and cider Air conditioners are traded for heaters and fans turn into blankets and pillows Sweat turns to rain Iced tea turns to hot coco and life becomes sweeter The paint drips.
And drops. And drips. And I don't know what to do, Can't remember how to save. The red paint mixes with the blue. I laugh, wishing more than anything it would turn to purple. I wish. But it won't. I know. It never will.
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