Poem Body
Sixteen seasons came and left
Still I remained stagnant with grief
Story was stolen, amnesia found me
I played the victim of this ghostly thief
The leaves fell, the grass it grew
Imposed by ice and snow
Summer sang the sweetest songs
But never did I know
The warmth had left and so the light
No longer touched my heart
And all my dreams lay dashed about
Broken, scattered, and smashed apart
Sixteen seasons lost to time
Unable to try and find my way
At last I took a tiny step
Into the start of brighter days
Comments
Sounds like...
four years. I hope that your steps are steady and firm; maybe they are tiny, but inching our way, is sometimes the best way to go. May your path be clear, and the steps take you to brighter days. I get it, you don't make it clear, what has taken your seasons from you and left you with amnesia, but it doesn't matter, you let it be known that you are on the road to recovery. Nice job, ~ Geez.
.
Step by step
One day at a time...a tiny step leads to another...so many things rob of us of our time and senses..your poem leads me to ponder the same for me. Glad you are on the road to recovery and glad to see you writing!
Sixteen Seasons
Hello, Tim,
What stood out for me was the detailed "sixteen," as if each season was felt so heavily from the others, and it made the time much more intense. And that, in turn, makes that tiny step much stronger and more meaningful. And much brighter.
Take good care!
L