Autumn scents of horse dung and apples,
remind me somehow, of my world, my life.
Days of pain or fireside memories
I’m not allowed to speak of or remember.
Wasted dreams, lost years, hot tears
flood my soul, drowning hope, loosing faith.
Horse dung and apples – rotting.
replenishing the soil for the future,
but not for me.
beebeesworld 
tersiaburger said,
August 4, 2012 @ 5:34 pm
You write beautifully. Thank you