Hackpoems

Tough trails are surely afar and surely behind
Hidden winds of time have blown us west
And the time has come to go down south

I awake to a sleepy dreary mountain valley
The clouds a dark yet dull blue
And golden sunlight that slices and bounces from wall to wall
White curves turn purple as the sky seems to bloom

I watch two paths
They run in paralle
Both so different
But are terribly much the same
It's not something one could ever tell

As I venture away from the valley
That showed me so much
I get some awkward feeling
That I'm losing something
Deeper than I may be able
To ever tell

But the sky closes up
The blossoming valley
Has become dark and decayed
So hopefully by this time tomorrow
Another can enjoy  a white curves day