The ground was meant to be the foundation, But it swallowed my foundation whole, Taking the last part of my will. I could deal with not knowing, I have my own place for you, But now it's only Trepidation in my gut. No more butterflies, No more tears. Was I right? Is that really where you are? The real place you lie? Even though you are in my heart. I want to crawl beneath the surface world. For one last goodbye.
The water trembles between my toes, But the tide is yet to move, Comforting solace repels the waves. Sun holding itself from truth. The sand here burns, melts away breath, Chastising the silence, making it screech and bend. But the water is cooling. The tide is calming. The waves bring comfort. The sun still holds the truth. The day time twists, pulling tightly, Taking the last part of itself to keep for sure. But the water has gone. No tide exists, no waves. The sun has set.
The roads are winding, Green fields are forever passing by, The highest buildings- Tickling across the skyline. No. Looking. Back. New faces meeting kindly, Old faces repressed and forgotten, Habits lost with the new face, Feelings fade in each new place. No. Looking. Back. No-one knows, no-one ever will, It's our secret to keep, I won't tell and I know you can't, We'll both take it to our graves. No. Looking. Back. Time ran out, sand blew off. The sun still burns my eyes, The warmth that wraps you, Wraps her tightly too. No. Looking. Back.
The Poet Armistead 