Midsummer on a Strange Path

Watching time step over my wounds and slowly fade away, I seem to see dim halos drifting past, trailing certain faces that are familiar yet strange in my memories.

I think perhaps some people really can walk away bravely without looking back, like we once did. It was like a play, except the curtain fell sooner than expected. Yet when the end credits fell silent, we cried as if our hearts were breaking.

Walking down those familiar streets, I watch the young people there, in the same old places, acting out the heartache of youthful ignorance once more.