where i park there is a river
- slow flowing duck filled
it is cobbled stone, i walk
quickly, no electronics, no
calls, no games, no talk but
to myself. how i talk to my
self. how one moment joy
the next despair. life is like
this especially in the walk
when i fell no one was there
I had a choice to return
or go on - blood surfacing
i told no one. what good is
there in past hurts. sharing
i don't think he'll come back
