Ink

Words come easy and then they go, flying like littered bits of paper that sway in the wind. Lifeless, torn, disconnected, scattered! They meant something once... Time faded away all the memories that lay wrapped in the warm comfort of starched paper.

They mean naught now! Maybe it's best I don't lay bare my thoughts.

They'll fade away like a million memories that exist in this world. Maybe it's best it lies in my heart, deep in corner, hidden somewhere.

Bittersweet , it's fingers never reaching for a voice or ink. Perhaps then they'll always be in my soul, in my heart, tucked safely in a corner. Safe from the hungry clutches of the world and time.....