“Imprinted Heart”

 

Young like the wind as it lifts us,

A building like our little hour glass.

Not in the world we can ever be,

Hand in hand, eyes close — we are free.

 

We figure the mystery of old,

And how they ended up a false hope.

Can we remain as young as this?

An old answer can never give.

 

We imprinted hearts from the old log.

Gone with the wind, remains fog

We lost the story of an old prince frog.

A reminsce in a room, a coffee and a mug.

 

(C) M. E. Flores

 

#Prompt 5

#Halfmarathoner

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