& the rest is still unwritten...



Every time
We are reminded
Of where we are headed
Despite the fact, that we can't help it.

Seasons change outside
Never to be the same,
Or to come back...
Like a tide.
So alone,
Just trying to store
Some of the memories
Of my happy diary.

So alone,
I wait.
For there is nothing to be done.

Waiting for the next disaster to strike,
Or the next memory I can store,
Or....keep trying to forget
That I'm alone.

Right here.
For the painting
Full of colors
That fate might have been planing
To paint
But instead,
Sucked all the colors by a straw
Leaving it, as a 'pending file'.