That memory is a chest with no loot,
An orchard, without the fruit.
I was certainly here, or there,
I couldn't have vanished in thin air.
Matter without substance,
Words typed with backspace,
A mindful ignorance.
How does one
Make the nothing tangible,
A blank canvas beautiful,
Or build a piece-less puzzle?
What did we do, where did we go?
Were we young at heart, but old in soul?
Was our wondering lit by the moon's pale glow?
All of these questions but still no answer,
Maybe if I think longer and harder I'll remember...
It's so hard to put fingers on,
All of the things that I could've done,
On that night I turned the big 2 - 1.
- Michael Barchetti
- Pittsburgh, PA, United States
- Hi I'm Mike Barchetti. I love the unique and the strange. I am opinionated, and love to discuss things. Humor is the spice of life, because nothing is ever off limits. With that being said, I am a very sarcastic and vulgar person. Besides my love of discourse, storytelling is something that I live for, and whenever the two meet, I am in my element. I'm very outgoing, and like to meet new people, so give me a shout!