discard phones
are memories filled with regret.
do we tend to waste the alone time we are given?
give me something to believe in.
i’m centered, and as they notice me,
i cease not my flow of comfort,
returning home.
but now as we part, i must show
all the gratitude dwelling in my bones.
i think it’s time to discard our phones.
Luka.
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The idea of progression starts in that metaphor of a burning end .. an end in more ways..
Then there are walls and growth. This is powerful poetry thanks for writing it.
Someone give the man a Bells already!!
Thank you! There are many 'ends' we come across, things wilting, all of which we transcend with time - growth is always!
@trumanity upvoted this post via @poetsunit!!
Poetsunited - DISCORD - @poetsunited - witness upvote