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posted on May, 23 2015 @ 04:35 PM
Old memories catching my mind's eye,
like faded black and white cinema.
Characters lip syncing words that can't be spoken,
like spilled popcorn they fall,
crushed under foot, leaving their buttery trail.

Flickering light mesmerizing my thoughts,
words unheard taking up their space.
Daydreaming... mixing real and unreal,
what was and what could have been.
The convoluted script obscuring the plot,
deja vu again and again and again.

Names, characters, and titles,
dolby sound rising in my chest,
with resounding base and tweeting treble.
I close my eyes and text rolls endlessly,
crediting everyone but my name is not there.

I have become the audience of my own life.
Can I trust the reviews?
edit on 06/02/2011 by grayeagle because: (no reason given)

posted on May, 24 2015 @ 01:02 AM
Wow! That was awesome!

posted on May, 24 2015 @ 01:33 AM
a reply to: grayeagle

Great poetry.

Seems like you really became the observer of your own life.
Guess what your name means.

posted on May, 24 2015 @ 10:16 AM
a reply to: Night Star

Thanks friend! It was a stormy day here and I wrote it in a kind of a black and white haze. The view out my window shrunk into a view like being in a theater and watching a movie. I trust you are doing well and writing. After all it is what we do!

posted on May, 24 2015 @ 10:17 AM
a reply to: hewriteshere

Now you have my attention. What does my name mean? BTW thanks for stopping by!

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