Wednesday, 3 April 2019


Goes so fast, there is not much of it when you come down to it.


Life is like a faded blossom, as petals of a rose, we bloom, we prosper, we fade and die.

The colour goes from us.
There is no strength in us.
Just memories of who we once were.

Young, strong, beautiful, long limbed with armfuls of laughing children. Busy important jobs, taking breaks for sunny beach days.

Now there is no fight left.
Our arms and homes are empty - like our purses.
We can keep our experience and our intelligence - but not our jobs.

Pain and despair filter through on even the sunniest beach days. No running on the warm sand scooping children into our arms.

Our feet drag along through time, pulling our pain with them,
I do not want to say goodbye.
I want to live again.