Funk And Soul

I allowed the moment to be –

And I allowed myself to be the moment.

The wild expectations of my teenage years are long gone; 

There is no crazy purpose –

And there is no mad yearning. 

Summer ends, only to come back  around again.

I can let it be –

Or I can let it go.

I have no fond memories here – 

Only faint reminders of what has been: mad love, melancholic, mad rage, mad, mad.

Still –

It always had a way with me.