Slightest whispers unravel your soul. Making all my hopes and dreams whole. A touch of a memory i hold forever, is this a dream ill live forever. Optimism confuses my weak old heart, should it block your advances to defend against the fall apart. Dwindling dreams are mounted in my past, falling too quickly your falling too fast? Makes no sense in my weak old life filled with horrors and such strife. As i sit here earning a meagre wage theres someone of understanding age. As much as i whisper to hold me too near i can't stop the feeling of such fear. Trust something which can hurt so bad. Or trust something that makes old hearts glad?
Welcome to the Garden Theater Library! Stories, poems, events are re-posted here for later retrieval, and enjoyment.
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