Memories become our trail of crumbs,
That lead us back to events or things,
At times the trail spans many miles,
To that place that tomorrow brings,
Little things can show a path,
If for some reason we feel lost,
And as we look for crumbs we left,
Future moments are the cost.
As we try to analyze,
Or in our minds decide who’s to blame,
The bread crumbs seem to blow away,
To reveal a single name,
Can these bread crumbs provide us sustenance,
Can they be enough to keep love alive,
Knowing that the love is real,
Yet wondering why we hide.
A walk along a sandy beach,
A bread crumb that takes us back,
To the very time and place,
When love was still on track,
A memory of her long dark hair,
Or a faint whisper in my ear,
A bread crumb emphasizing words,
That a broken heart needs to hear.
The memory of a soft caress,
A bread crumb to her touch,
And with her absence in my life,
Alone becomes to much,
Do all these little fragments,
Equal up to a loaf of bread,
What happens to this empty feeling,
Does it travel from heart to head.
If a dream is ripped apart,
Are our bread crumbs the remaining pieces,
And if love becomes a part of us,
It’s a thing that never ceases,
Love’s bread crumbs are the memories,
And they all lead straight to you,
A dream that seems evaporated,
But at the same time a dream come true.
As we look in our mirrors,
These bread crumbs can’t be seen,
While time exerts it’s heavy pull,
And the heart gats caught between,
The trail might lead in circles,
It might take us forward and back,
The trail leads straight to you,
And love is still on track.

January 30th, 2017

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