Down at graves yard to save bones hard.. ritual done well.. for the theo geo with his promises of hell.. what of promised.. what sensed truth falls thru no sieve.. what of those who live?
laughter tears.. exchanged to give….
Come to speak with father.. granddad.. nana and old friends.. some dead long before their last heartbeat beat their worldly end..
‘Had a time’ you from before.. had a well of dreams.. watched as thieves deceived things they knew as real..
Memories of cliff dances.. foolish youth and sex.. what to save.. before the grave.. in this crazy mix..
Some if I could reach them.. had I only known.. their pain for some is laughter.. friends need not be alone..
Memory speaks well and tweaks mistakes and blush of crowds.. what is lived.. to laugh.. forgive.. is seldom said out loud..
Demons laugh and think of things like bloody wars and chance.. our love in song till pain came.. yes till then we loved to dance..
What created man of science.. what of techies too.. what of art.. a mended cart lasts century mayhap two..
Memory speaks well and finds your dreams are fine and true.. those things created.. fated.. feather true as birds who flew..