Passes Quickly

But outside, whatís struggling for itís own survival,
faces reflected in pools of mud.
We went lost in the vapid radiance of motivation.
Always on the brink of sanity.

What once meant something, passes quickly
Pushed forwards by low-lying cloudmasses.
Skylines and movement in the search for direction.
In the search for a way out. A way back.




Poetry by Olle Gudbrand
Read 92 times
Written on 2018-03-11 at 17:03

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