A Clouded View

David Wingo

Ragged pages in shades of blue
Ink is bleeding from words written in 1982
They aligned themselves with you
Once clear, now turning into
A clouded view


The basement whispers, the attic sings
The lines you memorized so solemnly
When you where 16
They were everything
You'd lay in your bed and quietly sing
And while the feeling still rings true
The words are fading, fading into
A clouded view


You read them over and over again
To try to remember what they said back then
And while the feeling still rings true
The words are fading, fading into
A clouded view

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