...and the hope is far away

When the dreams don't move

There are some days like this,
when the dreams don't move,
and the hope is far away,
and the present is black
When I come back to the past to find my rainbow.
I open the old box of my happy memories and I try to paint my thoughts with colors.
The colors that I try so many years to keep alive
For my colorless poor days

Copyright Constantinos Grigoriadis All rights reserved

Poetry by Constantinos Grigoriadis
Read 578 times
Written on 2008-02-19 at 15:46

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