Odd Things

I’ve been having memories lately of the deepest sorrow
Stories told so long yesterday they’re just infinite tomorrows
Of childhood dreams and smells and boyhood
Oh God how it bleeds, bright silver hot breeze
Wind blown grass like gossamer reeds
Distant, far smells aged like perfect wine
Of bitter cold days age four,
Of shivering warm in a backseat, open door
Oh flung so far from my recent past you are
Where did I turn wrong, forfeit my joy?
Tears like string brands cheeks adorn
Oh memory, memory gasping, forlorn
What is nostalgia that cuts through bone
What is distant happiness so crucifix bright
How can it be fond memory should heartstrings test thus
Where were you buried to arise with such sorrowful gale?
What dry bones have you turned in mad scramble?
And where now should I place you, oh sounding fright?
Baleful woe, nonetheless, your welcome is under question
Should I return you to this fateful dungeon?
But draw near to dare, too hateful stares, where to put you
Where to put you…

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