Ashes Left Behind
As the wheels of my life keep on turning,
Never shall I forget,
My dreams of Christmas burning.

Joy and a child's marvelled sensation rained their
tears of glee upon my head.
This moment,
This final youthful perfection,
Made its engraving in my memory as our
presents and love continued their outbreak,
Their spread.

Eight years of age,
Ignorant of a family's future corruption.
Summer's warm air never came that year.
Was the time of an endless cold front's interruption.

The gates toward maturity,
And adulthood,
Opened quite swiftly.
Leading a path through measureless guilt and sorrow,
Leaving the life of a child's simplicity.

Never shall I forget my last Christmas yearning.
Never shall I forget that photograph's burning.

And now is when I notice,
How time shall never yeild in the name of pity.
Family was lost to a diamond ring division,
And so was my naivety.

A wise man once said,
Misfortune shall shape us resilient,
And hard-wearing.
But moments still arrive,
While gazing upon my photograph's ashes,
I can't keep from wishing,
Time had no bearing.

If the past could be measured in miles,
Toward this day is where I'd run.
For the better or worse,
Such an option shall never come.
:: Alex Gornbein

What's New | Quotations | Poetry Corner | Poetry Contest | Jokes |
Mystical Path | Web Team | Survey | Sponsors | Bookstore | Search | Sitemap |