When youth called,
My heart ached.
What was
Was painted with gentle strokes.
A memory that was airy and light.
As the images that were enveloped by laughter faded,
My mind questioned the present.
Did I take the path you wished me to take?
Are you proud?
My eyes watched the days come and go.
My soul wished for stilleness.
My mind wished for calm.
SONYA A WATSON 