TWO YEAR OLD FILES
The day is silent
not even the birds are at play
as I sit before the tyrant
and empty the trash for all the yesterdays.
Old dreams into nightmares fade
what I once viewed with energy
and hope
now makes me very afraid.
So far away away from me
I borrow a line from the sound track
going back down the track
and trying to get that feeling back.
So far away from me
so far I just can't see
but I know you are there
I can still smell the soapy clean of your hair.
Blind sided by an old image
banal in its entirety
I try to remember
what did it mean to me.
But that was then
and this is now
and it all means nothing
anyhow.
Just another thing that relies on keeping the faith
a sort you'd better believe
before you could really understand
and having make a choice before you could leave.
When you are dead you are dead,
full stop,
you ain't going anywhere
no matter what you did or said.
We all have promises we didn't keep
things that sometimes robbed us in our sleep.
Things we hide behind the facade
because they make us look so very bad.
So look behind the forced laughter and insincere smiles
the truth may be hiding in the unkept promises
somewhere in those
two year old files.
JWL

Sitting in my gaunch looking at old files and listening to Dire Straits
"Brothers in Arms" and this poem would not let me be.
Ciao, JWL