Pieces of Me by, Melissa R. Mendelson
Pieces of Me
White pages whisper in the wind,
hovering low to the ground
as I drag my feet,
uncertain of where I’m going.
Silence holds my mind
as my eyes fall on darkness,
afraid to face the dreams
that beg to be lived
not buried within.
Alone I stand,
surrounded by the pages
that yet have to be written.
The question burns
in a heart left cold
buried under vines of my soul
if time will continue to walk ahead
without a look back on the footprints
fading quickly behind me?
Will I become a ghost here,
another blank face in the crowd,
or will I find the courage
to take the pen,
write the pages
that whisper in the wind?
White pages whisper in the wind,
hovering low to the ground
as I drag my feet,
uncertain of where I’m going.
Silence holds my mind
as my eyes fall on darkness,
afraid to face the dreams
that beg to be lived
not buried within.
Alone I stand,
surrounded by the pages
that yet have to be written.
The question burns
in a heart left cold
buried under vines of my soul
if time will continue to walk ahead
without a look back on the footprints
fading quickly behind me?
Will I become a ghost here,
another blank face in the crowd,
or will I find the courage
to take the pen,
write the pages
that whisper in the wind?
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