Tiny fragments of memory
In the deepest floors of the mind
Once in a while pokes our heart
Bleeding tears of nostalgia
Waves of green and an old brewery
Round spring side pebbles and rocks
It was either black or white
Grey came in late,a sudden shock
Tired hands,circles of smoke
Walked,Talked and hoped
In between the charming
And the once charmed

He slept so tired,
Like a door shut for the night
Unwilling to reclaim his youth
Indecision,Decided,He refused
To write,He remained quiet
Romance of the red
Magic of the saffron

Unclear visuals of scenery
Of the shallow world outside
Once in a while poked a heart
Calm tears for death
Waves of goodbye for a man
Neither black nor white
He was a poem in grey
As they say,
A poem is read again
And again and again
- Kris