A Story Of Sometimes.

Reblogged with kind permission.

chester maynes

There is a story of sometimes
that my mind cannot forget
and some pictures are scratched
madly by these fingers.
I defile the bad.

Cold, damned, haunted years.
They transported me to an
alienated world of ghastly
dramas and torrid innuendos.
I was assaulted.

The pages are read one by one.
I have scored the meaning of
life and love has enchanted
the haters and the witches.
I maligned my nightmares.

To which I end and close 
a story of sometimes.
But I have an audience
of sharp remembrance.
I cannot ignore.

I burn the papers.
I rewind the time.
I start a new year.
A story of sometimes
is undone.


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