EMPTY LOT

There is not room
in this head
for space
nor thought

unless erased memories

purchase lot

Has the time come
to heal, forget
this mess

my dismal

twisted head

I use to have
drawn in my mind
concrete plans

not sands to find.

Time.  My journey.
my fingers

lost

nothing to count
my balance

off

My reins not loosened
never abused
my missing lead rope

never used.

Dreams are not
to be lasso'd in

not harnessed

nor broken

nor seen.

--Diva