The attic of my mindA Poem by black.butterflyPoemAs I climb this staircase, so high, to the attic of my mind, I say my melancholic goodbye, stashing away what I don't want anyone to find. With rusty lock in hand, I stare at this old trunk, I breathe to understand, for my heart has sunk. I bring them out once in a while, the dreams gone with the dust, go through the same internal trial; I should. I could. I must. I stare at the blue gardens from the windows and the matching wide skies. I stay here within the shadows, inhabited by moths and black butterflies. © 2011 black.butterflyAuthor's Note
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Added on January 1, 2011Last Updated on January 4, 2011 |

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