Blanketed in the corner at the back of the closet lies my best intention.
A mere thought, a mere grasp of something great and then lost.
Shoved in the corner, next to a forgotten hobby or two, that’s where I left my last chance with you.
Scattered newspapers lie abandoned with headlines past, a time we thought would always last.
It sets in like dust on a shelf, a book left untouched the ending a bust.
But the quiet consumes the thoughts of the mind. Only time will tell if our hero prevails.