(another scribbling found in a drawer!)

What is left; memories are all there is
and many of them are wrongly remembered.
so maybe there is nothing left at all
just noises on the breeze barely heard
and then they are gone, lost at sea.
assumptions and misunderstandings
swirl like autumn leaves on a storm
misjudgments, misjudged, yes misjudged
each and the other; that’s the thing.
a clap of thunder at night that drowns
out the whisper of reality and truth.


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