there are phases
in my life,
things of interest,
things to share with my father
as time passes
on a continuous stream
of hopefuls dreams
of broken sceams
things
to hold on to
interests
often times
make no sense,
seem to clutter
that futile feeling
that all is for not,
that when it's over it goes with you
hangs over my head
Like a dark cloud
questioning the reasons
For what is the use
I capture it in pictures
to revisit this journey
and this again I question
what quest do I take with me
in the ending of my days
In my reach for heaven
what do I take from here
What was this light
That once felt love?
