Her solid ground.
I haven't had the time to ask you what you meant. If it was all meant for nothing, or the scores of conflict were somehow lost along the sides of road instead. You hang your head like guilt wrapped around your fragile neck. Somewhere we forget to laugh and yet we stand on subtle steps found. Tears like stone, peter out 'til the clouds smile on us. A bit more quiet now. But the folds of blanket left remind me of the cold that kept us, held us, 'til the time comes to ask what was meant, after all. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I'm aware I haven't written anything in a few months, but considering my work with a small university orchestra, I've been kept very busy. Hope you enjoy it!