So many thoughts
Tumbling, stuck, overflowing
Some held tightly to my heart
Some written in black ink on lined pages
While others flow freely if there happens to be an ear around to hear
So many masks
And perhaps no one even knows
That the mask IS a mask
And under it is a tender heart
That has been washed with tears and put out to dry
So many moments
Past, Present and future
The Good, the bad and the ugly
Its no wonder one wears a mask
Somehow it just seems safer that way.
So many opportunities
Some taken
Many missed
And some waiting to be grasped
By hands that are upturned, opened and and yet not sure if they really want more.
So many people
All around but busy within their own thoughts
Behind their own masks
Mulling over their own moments
And letting opportunities slip through their fingers
Like grains of sand in the hour glass
Never to be touched again
Only to be turned over to mark the next passage of time
So many thought
Some held close to the heart
Not wanting a single thought to be wasted
Or thrown like pearls to the swine.
And many more being captured by the ink that flows from the pen
And one day, may be read by a different generation
In a different time
And place
And it will only make sense to the writer
Unless the reader knows her well enough to read between the lines.
Written by Joy
