I would like to remember
for the sake of remembrance
without fear of talking on corners
where echoes reverberate
within these four white walls.
I would like to visit a place
that is only half-remembered
where the streets are fading
against the foggy morning light.
Have they forgotten
or just being forgetful?
Frozen fingers of tree branches
on a bleak Friday morning.
Wisps of emotion numbed
by the chilly winds,
the pores of my skin
have forgotten to breathe.
The chances of longing
for somebody or someone
whom you have felt the time
when the blood on your veins
boil and burst with life. Inside
of you. That the world is
still a beautiful place, after all.
Just for this moment of expectation.
This soft prison cell will balm my soul
who wants to break out as a man
free like a butterfly
in its resplendent colors.
Solitude Amidst the Maddening Crowd
