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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2247273-Yesterday
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by Logan Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2247273
Great events turn on small hinges, listen for the creaks
Yesterday

Lost in veils, yesterday,
locked in times gone by;
with all the things I've thrown away,
and things I didn't try

Things I never thought were mine,
lit hearts too loud to hold;
spirits bright, with too much shine,
souls vibrant, lively... bold

A bird in flight, too bright to cage,
a phoenix burning hot;
as mercury climbs up the gauge,
and alcohol is shot

through glassen veins, pushed, pumping loud,
too loud to be ignored;
passing through a heart too proud,
too proud to cede it's floored

Taken out with little more,
a laugh, a look... a smile;
touched down to its very core,
a presence to beguile

still white flags don't fly easily,
as easy as they should;
with winds gusting round breezilly,
confused... misunderstood

A flaming bird spun on the wind,
with wings a blazing flame;
extinguished, tied down, clipped and pinned,
would be a sin to tame

A heart that beats to Pavlov's bell,
a mind set square, rejects;
controlling when the ringers tell,
for whom they toll.... select

In silence as minds ponder, play,
despite the constant thrall;
where restless hearts will wander, stray,
without a siren's call

Whispered on a wind blown tryst,
with ghosted questions posed;
considering the windows missed,
and doors that have been closed

To live ashamed of what we see,
truths hid behind our lies
never thought you could want me,
could never quite see why

Why something dropped down, heaven sent,
a heartbeat awed, refrains;
beaten with such echoes spent,
... the glitter still remains

with time spent errant, wishing,
... another chance, another day;
a life forever fishing,
for the one that got away

A rime that burns and twinges, crawls,
on edge, out in the wings;
great times turn, on hinges small,
subtle are such swings

The creakings of a closing gate,
you cannot just ignore;
the drawing of a bolt and plate,
the shutting of a door

Hollow outcomes, incomplete,
there's pride before that fall;
would've been there in a beat,
if my heart received the call

Praying that it might be found,
with orisons ignored;
envious of common ground,
that could've been explored

Thoughts and dreams forsaken,
lost in shadows now, they live;
the times I wished I'd taken,
... the things I'd like to give

If only I'd felt worthy,
of the treasure that's on show;
lonely, tried... too blind to see,
... pushed far as I could go

A fable in the making, scarred,
a symphony of dreams;
but giving without taking's hard
... it ain't as easy as it seems

When trains roll out the station, slow,
thoughts get carried down the track;
it gets lost in translation, low,
... it gets left missing, in the black

with all the things I've tried to say,
'midst all the things I didn't try;
lost in veils, yesterday,
locked down, lost in times gone by
© Copyright 2021 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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