We Ran This World
Where do we go from this point in which
we sit so miserably, facing each other
gracelessly, because of the lack of remembrance
of a time, when we stood atop a buried hill
at some ocean-side piece of land,
more hidden than what was shared
at that moment in time?
A carelessness that was more beautiful than you could ever know.
A lack of direction that put two on a podium
causing ire by everyone who stared.
We loved it: A final year to parade atop the world.
Wind blew your hair to pieces
that won’t leave my mind,
until you die, or I forget,
neither will occur.