Magnetic Poetry Saturday

we fiddle away the
dreams of our youth
with no thought of
time…frantically trying
to make up
what we have lost

we forget we are
born of magic and
light the longer
we linger here
in the dark

she was an old soul;
a soft voiced listener
she could light up
a moment n time
making me believe
in happy ever always

my intuition, when I
follow it has led me
on some wild paths
but how lost I’d
be without her


magnetic poetry

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