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Budding phrases and two liters,
All down the drain.
Valentines and Curious George
Are fading away.

I've tried chasing them,
Tried nets and traps,
But they all slip away
Like Holden's sand in the sifter.

Photos and trinkets
Are all that remain,
And I'm still expected
To turn and go on.

I woke up this morning
To the things I know now.
Bunk beds and laptops
And yesterday's pizza.

As I turned to the person
In the bunk below mine
I had to ask her
"How did I get here?
What's going on?"
:iconstarlightdreamer901:

Author's Comments

Just something I jotted down the other day while waiting for the professor to show up. As a side note, the things in the first stanza (two liters, Curious George, etc.) are references to my past. No one is expected to understand them, but rather as you read it, try inserting some of your favorite personal memories.

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:icondroki:
interesting poem.
:iconstarlightdreamer901:
Thanks.

--
"Live as though yesterday never happened. Love as though tomorrow will never come. Dream as though today never mattered." - Raeda

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January 24
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