MIST

Screaming, tearing, raging my mind runs
Through clouds of grey mist as I seek the light
Cobwebs brush my face and I stumble and stagger

I seek for what I have lost and can never find
The happiness of childhood, not mine but yet mine
Part of me but separate by more than distance

I see but am not seen
For I am now part of that swirling mist
Memories, not mine but others

Never to be regained
But still I try until consumed.

Anonymous

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