The cadence of time is constant
forever advancing uninterrupted
the simple wonders of life lost
trampled and dulled in its passing.
There were moments in the past
when clouds above could inspire
the formation of whole fantasies
or a simple balloon trying to climb
to the heavens was pure felicity.
Those things left behind as we
follow the parades furtherance.
Inspiration becomes forced
as we lend awe to the aweless,
feigning amazement in memory
of a time when awe was all things.
IMAGE
is a beautiful poem, thx for sharing
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upvoted and resteeming now !
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