Gone

By Stone Bryson

Dreams are in denial,

the flower dies of memories.

Jury holds the trial,

Condemning life to insecurities.

The wheels are stalling in my heart,

how am I supposed to move?

The mind and soul should never part -

what am I supposed to do?

Move on…

The rose is gone.

gone.

Illusion is a child,

denied of me so long ago.

Woman is a smile,

I’ll never wear - the face without a soul.

The dream is fading with my hope

how am I supposed to play?

The price was higher than I’d ever known

what am I supposed to pay?

Move on…

it’s gone.

Gone

Copyright © 2006 Stone Bryson.  All Rights Reserved.

Written July 1995

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