Saturday, August 25, 2012

Once again
 I search for myself
In these grainy blurred pictures
You are there too
 Maybe just your hand
 Or your headgear
What were we then?
 You and I and the rest?
 We marvelled at the world outside
Mouth wide open
Of some distant promised land.
How were we then?
Did the hurt exist,
 The throbbing pain?
Age is catching up to us.
 Just the last moment of escape.
That was it. You and I
Bending our heads over books,
 Scraps of paper, old loves, life,

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