Tabula Rasa
Nothing has been written down.
The colors of chalk are absent;
Free are the moments played,
In-betweens the few sundry beats.
Missing are the bygone hurts,
Of my many broken promises.
And heartfelt goodbyes
Of my cherish love ones passed.
With these hints of yesterday gone,
Conveniently wiped away
Like chalk on a blackboard,
I walk without not knowing.
My mind has become slippery,
Like black ice on a cold dark day
Where memories are wrapped,
Up in a series of daydreams,
And then misremembered;
Like trinkets and mementos,
Emptied from a dusty old box.
When the keys of the present
Can no longer echo the past
Life teeters on meaninglessness without,
A soundboard of histories to resonate.
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