Passes Quickly

But outside, what's struggling for it's own survival,
faces reflected in pools of mud.
We went lost in the vapid radiance of motivation.
Always on the brink of sanity.

What once meant something, passes quickly
Pushed forwards by low-lying cloudmasses.
Skylines and movement in the search for direction.
In the search for a way out. A way back.

Poetry by Olle Gudbrand
Read 369 times
Written on 2018-03-11 at 17:03

Tags Poetry 

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