Play by play, the days
running backwards into themselves.
They'd lived it all before too many times.
But they never stopped to make the reasons rhyme.
Moment by moment, regressed to the max,
so startled by the aftermath, that shock set in
and thus became the only friend they had.
And the games kept running
Play by play, still backing up into themselves.
Never really changing anything.
Instantly, another scene replayed.
How sad, the death of all the love
they could have lived instead...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano, All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .