Restless

point-de-fuite_NB_SD

Restless

The mind turns in on itself.
Ever restless, it haunts
The passages of the past.

Opening long-closed doors,
Peering in through dust
And easy forgetfulness.

Looking for something
It can find some use for,
Something it can believe in.

 

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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