there were no saints
on those streets
you walked on
then
and now
wherever now is
just torn boys
turning into men
with conflicts raging
within
trying to live up
to some ideal
put upon you
carrying the scars
one gets
on body
on soul
and I
no longer your witness
carry you still
in my ravaged heart
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
Fine Arts Blog
Life, love and destiny.
4TheRecord is dedicated primarily to Ausmusic from all eras and most genres, we will explore the dynamics of the creative process, and reveal the great drama, lyricism, musicality, and emotion behind each classic song.
Fii schimbarea pe care vrei sa o vezi in lume!
Moments de vie, fragments de textes et quelques notes...
Unleashing the beauty of creativity
there's nothing like stories
quiet moments in nature
Art and Literature Beyond Borders
A bird's eye view of St. George, Utah
Keep on Reading
Chronicling an ever-changing city through faded and forgotten artifacts
I read, rant and write ;)
Sono una donna libera. Nel mio blog farete un viaggio lungo e profondo nei pensieri della mente del cuore e dell anima.
Leonard Durso 
That’s powerful, Leonard…
Thank you. That’s kind of you to say.
I simply give credit where credit is due, my friend…
Very touching and impactfull, the emotional tones leave me sad and wondering about changes.
Thank you. I appreciate your comment.
These lines are superb: “then / and now / wherever now is”. The whole piece really is. This is like sorrow colliding with sadness.
Thank you once again.
You’re welcome.
A fine moment of reflection that can apply to all. Very nice, Leonard!
Thanks, John. It seems to be that kind of day today. Maybe I should play different music.
Sometimes memory’s in the music, sometimes in the silence. You compress a lot into your short and almost self-dismissive lines. The thing is over so fast, it’s just like the thing that is missed; it goes by so fast and meaningfully.
Thank you, Jeff. It’s like dreams, you know. They seem to last forever but happen in minutes. Memory is so fleeting that one cannot hold on to it long.