Short words on a long day
Doors closed on faded memories
Listened to quiet hello’s
Silent good-byes
Young children and older siblings
Watched the wind blow through the spring leaves
Yellow daffodils visited by the honey bee
Remembered young faces to be put with old bodies
Cried because that’s the thing to do
Published by falsepromisenouveau
Art, Poetry, and dreams of things to come. False Promises is something we all do whether we make them to pacify a young child or an anal associate. The worst are the ones we make to ourselves and label bucket or wish list.
With that said I hope to write stories populated by my memories, and the regrets that I would change. If only done in fiction or a dream, I tried.
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False Promises Nouveau 