A Picturesque Framed Love
I wake up this morning to a cloud of smoke lingering from the nightly bush fires of the mind;
I have been reminiscing but perfect answers to soothe my soul, I could not find
I feel this sharp prick in my heart, something on which I shouldn’t feed
Otherwise those cold thorns of void will make this heart bleed.
I drag myself to my work desk, trying to embrace some productivity
But my eyes grace pixels, several years old yet quite young in my memory.
I dare to pick the frame up; beautiful indeed!
I visualize flashes of the road taken; and I smell that familiar fragrance of love’s seed.
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