a drunk-on-poetry observer
still echoes
in my mind,
and the broken
pieces of my heart
are still hard
to find -
all is lost
yet all is found;
six feet in the ground.
unlived and
faded,
but no one knows
as much as i do
about loving her,
and so i continue
to take refuge
in these notes
of hopeless dreams,
belonging to a
drunk-on-poetry
observer of beauty.
Luka.
slow down and love - your words are noted my friend.
And enjoy each sip of the juice of life.