There’s some stranger in the mirror,
bears the scars of my forgotten past.
Try to frame photos with imagination
but is it fact or fiction I grasped?
And old friends forget to remember
the way to make our friendship last.
Forced to face my blank expressions
till their caring faces collapsed.
My wife who lies lovingly beside me,
tries to remind of something soft I said.
But my heart has ceased its beating,
there’s these holes of her in my head.
Can I even believe what she’s saying,
who is this woman waiting in my bed?
Should I stay with her regardless,
should I start something new instead?
If the walls could only talk too,
if they had a hundred eyes to see,
I would ask them for directions
to find all the lost pieces of me.
But blank walls just keep on closing,
leaving no space for me to be.
If ignorance is so blissful
then why aren’t I feeling free?
Some small murky patches I clung to
all merge to form a soiled stain.
Is it all better off left forgotten,
would the blanks be filled with pain?
All my words written to remember,
fearful for I may forget once again.
Yet will words bring back my memory
or fall lost like tears in the rain?
There was this last line I longed to tell you,
it was – – –
Copyright © 2015 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.