The players of yesteryears
Transformed in the players of today-
Confused and disoriented are
Memory games, being played
Upon mind’s mysterious field.
Blackened is the canvas of life,
Ghostly shadows stare in eyes.
In the alleys of the blinding darkness
Was there ever a bright home,
Filled with the golden sunshine?
The only truth of my existence-
Is this melancholic moment,
Clamped to my tortured self,
Can discern not from dream to reality
Frozen in cold eternity.
Jan 2020
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