{Poetry}: Day Twenty-Four: Something that Makes you Cry

Ghosts of lives past.
(Those who I can’t forget.)
Memories when they are projected on movie screen walls.
(Wallpapered on my heart indefinitely.)

When my history resurfaces
like a needle puncturing through the calm.
The loss of love & friends.

That look of contemptuous disgust.
Being told I’m not old enough to understand.
(Because my wisdom comes in experience, not years.)
Anything utilized to make me feel small or forsaken.



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