No Trace

I’m counting the years that have passed, Taken away from me, Buried under a false memory Of a happy childhood And intense puberty. I am a tired soul inside a feeble body, A brilliant mind, Coated with a weak will. Nay, I doubt I’d ever see my writings, my stories, In pages of a book, In someone else’s hand, my words spoken by someone else’s lips, my thoughts inside someone else’s mind. My poetries will just be carried away by the wind, My words in these sheets will be erased by time, And no one could ever tell That once, I’ve been here. ©reddragonfly