It was a sorry night, followed by a quickened haze of a day, amputated early of its morn, and descended faster than one would imagine. Then the night; then day; and so on, until the whole thing caught itself in a dull moment, gummed the workings, and tore the shaded fabric of those little lives like tufts from out a head of cotton candy.
The gossamer shards still clinging to the mother home.
Caught in a light unobscure,
Shadows roll about, unsure,
I see a path of black in front,
Or it may be nothing, an optic stunt,
So follow my footsteps a thing possibly not,
Until a strange noise, and my attention caught.
I freeze like a mouse, my heart rages on,
By the time it stopped, I'd been far gone.
Lift back, pull out, see the full scene,
Treasure all such life to be seen,
And don't toss it away, no matter where it's been.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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