Clouded Memories

If photographs were memories,
Of all those days gone by.
In calm weather, was there a breeze,
In night, was it blue the sky.
But the breeze did once exist
And the sky in the day was blue
Clouded by all the fog and mist
Those days now seem so few.
It was all there – the sun, the rain
And now the seasons seem to change
All those thoughts come in as a train
They are alien thoughts to a land strange.
It seems like a sleep one wakes up from
Flashes of love, Flashes of storm.

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