A Poem

Starting with no brilliant intensions
I pick up my pen to scribe
Memories of the trip are fleeting
Grasping to hold on
The faces, names, smells
Like a dream it's almost gone
Gasping
Where is the friend I made?
When will she be home?
When will I be home?
The Earth is yet to revolve twice
But yet a thousand years may be gone
"Always remember your past,"
A secret once told me
"It provides great instruction"
"Never go back"
Against my will, I move forward
An impossibility
A mystery
Angainst my will, I am backward

My hope is for sleep
Time should pass that way
My hope is not seen
I hope my hope is quick
I hope my hope is soon

Temporary is the fixture
Almost gone

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I just wrote this. No editing. So if it sucks that's why. blah blah blah