In the midst of this crowd who go marching forward, I glanced back.

Image from Pinterest

So This is Grief

In the midst of this crowd who go marching forward, I glanced back.

They go smothering colors to the road, while I paint mine black.

As they grasp the unattainable, satisfy the insatiable

Here I am, patiently waiting, saving the unmendable.

In this alley of torture, though beaten and damned, we cross.

These blocks we stack, all day and night, can never return…what’s lost.