So it goes...

Chasing greatness,
I began to write.

Able to think back,
without sadness creeping in.

A distant memory:
the chaos of home, sounds
of mayhem, colourful language,
regardless of circumstance.

We yelled into combat,
we fought.

Messy, ugly,
unnecessary.

We laughed, we hugged.

I’m sorry.

At a certain point -
alone.

Think back -
forgive.

A FOUND piece, from the ‘Writer’s Notes’ of the stage play Meurants Lane.

Dream intentionally - while you’re awake