Where HAVE all the flowers gone?
The days and nights of memories....
The music, the experiences, the moments remembered.....
Those were our flowers, our beacons, our stepping stones....
Our ways were unknown to us, but we followed the paths regardless,
and we found ourselves, sometimes,
and we lost ourselves, sometimes,
but we continued, we continued....
because we knew no other way.
The times were marked by losses;
Innocence was first to end by the wayside,
and dreams were hard against the wall of reality,
and joined the other things we shed,
as we learned the weight of things we once valued.
Seeking other things,
bright and shiny things,
we turned away from that which we should have treasured,
but we were young,
if that can be offered as excuse.
We thought, foolishly,
that even a bad excuse was better than no excuse.
Now, these years, these decades later,
I think about things,
spending time in quiet and sad contemplation,
bordered with every single "what if,"
and every single mental beating of my mind and heart,
'til I would as soon weep or pass away, -
else find some sort of consolation
so that I might face the mirror again.

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