Drift

When I was little, my mother used to tell me that the wind would come and carry me away because I was so light. Maybe I was afraid at first, not knowing, just going and being carried away. Either way, I only remember laughing at such a silly thing. But then I was so light, like all children are in their freedom. Now when the world weighs down so heavily on me... and threathens to only tighten its hold, I find I would want to be carried away. See something unknown, something new, or just something old from a new perspective. Just as long as I can drift away.

Her Belief

Her fingers press against the cold glass
as she forgets the past.
Her memories won't last,
without all those old photographs

Is she waiting for answers?
Or does she just wait for the rain to come,
and wash it all away?
And maybe, just maybe,
the sun will bring a new day...

She won't break through the bitter cold air.
But would stop for soft falling snow,
because it's a mirage of merriment not meant to exsist.
At least, not through this frigid mist .

But she chooses to believe
that spring will melt it away .
She chooses to believe in these promises
She chooses to wait for a better day...