In Technicolor

A time so long ago,
yet the memory
in technicolor…
I want to rip the page
from my mind’s
photo album,
because my heart
was foolish
to fall for that man,
our skies different
our dreams astray,
but the heart’s pulse
beats to a tune
of its own choosing,
never inspired
by logic,
nor will it ever be
shatterproof.
But this man wasn’t
a cockroach.
I never wished
to stomp on him,
like others
who preceded.
And so, I’m grateful,
for without that page
I wouldn’t have
stumbled
upon the path
that led me
to my love at last.

Lauren Scott (c)