Flown

My past life is like a stranger,

Vaguely familiar,

That I pass in the street,

Brooding eyes speak of danger,

The merciless killer,

Hungry for meat,

I pass with swift glance,

Then quickly look away,

Into the window pane,

Where I see my face by chance,

With no words to say,

To that reflection in the rain,

Silence on my tongue,

As I contemplate,

The road behind,

When dreams were young,

I believed my fate,

Would be kind,

Where did the footprints go,

That impressed the river sand,

With bare toes?

Oh how I miss them so,

The bird I held in hand,

That now has flown…

 

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