Summer

I
stood unnoticed,
unheard and unseen.

I
fell from the
above of good things.

My
hands write what
I think, what I wanted

to
say, yet, there are
no one to read me.

I
left a transformation
that is misunderstood.

The
summer awaits another
pain, another memory.

 

2017

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About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
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