Torrington, Ct, Usa
Upon the ever gentle night,
a dreamer lies with eyes closed tight,
and paints a canvas of delight,
with hues inside their mind.
Through memories, their brush they grace,
to paint themselves a better place.
The days gone by that they embraced,
but had to leave behind.
And still some colors had to fade,
the price of time, so costly paid.
Decisions that nobody made
but knew the consequence.
And in the artists slow awake,
a second for themselves they take
to think of colors that they'll make
in beauty of days hence.
[This message has been edited by Kevin (edited 01-22-2000).]