Time rushes by me
like a swirling cloud.
Iconic nouns pass me by,
a discouraging mass of light and sound.
They were here,
but now they’re gone,
living only on the dark pathways of memory.
These people, things and places
have disappeared only to be replaced,
but the holes they left
cannot be filled with a different shape.
There will always be
a loneliness
and longing
for the familiar roads that time erased.
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