HOLLOW
Who are we
without our
memories
naked shells
blown haphazardly
Belonging nowhere
to no one
no anchor
no security
no home
Accidentally
searching
the desolate roads
for signs we once
walked them
In comfortable jeans
and favourite shoes
enveloped in laughter
with the sun smiling
on our face
Coffee may bring us back
so may a song seeping down
from the ceiling of a
shopping mall
like mist on spectacles
But it cannot be
forced
or ignored
or understood
just accepted
Who are we
without our
memories
hollow shells
searching to be filled
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© Doghaus
25 April 2018
I own all rights to the text in this post.
Image https://goo.gl/images/D56Psp
Honestly,
Doghaus
