#3150 – Quietly

I like to sit alone,

In my own world,

To silently reminisce.

About the past,

Maybe tomorrow,

But not today.

So I drift,

To where I’ve been,

Those I’ve met,

Strange turns made,

And coincidences lived,

With sweetness,

Tenderness and sadness.

But as thoughts drift,

A feeling of smallness,

Dances in the breeze.

I live in a foreign world,

That I barely seem to know,

Yet continue to believe,

As I dream of peace,

For those I cannot see.