Framework Sky

Tears realized in black memories

to free the child sobbing in the corner,

while crossing the desert alone,

but watching the sky for portraits

of the cloudy hopes that drifted away

upon a wind that took the tomorrows

written in youth’s innocence.

 

Wisps of virginity,

the phantom inside that still looks for magic,

empowers the feet to keep chasing

that crimson balloon of pure joy,

a toy of wishes that could fly

where the heart was free from sadness.

 

The sun burns its truths

on the aging footprints,

yet still the angel inside longs to live,

keep the air preserved as a portrait

of the way life should be experienced.

 

Trudging through those barren

landscapes of despair’s bitter scenes,

ever reaching for the teddy bear hugs

lost in the frail caress of trust.

 

Sometimes they seem like mirages

more than the past,

but the heart never stops searching

for that toy chest of happiness.