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.