Life in a Glass Vase

There will always be that long,
long ago feel,
that doesnâ€™t come close to the actions,
that serve on a dime,
of truth,
for there must be more in the,
pure honest magic,
that fades from the honey hues of day light,
painting in the little star sparkle night,
that has a cool whist to it,
that a breezy warm day,
just canâ€™t compare to it all,
what a little shine of a dazzle heart beat can conquest,
in the long run of it all,
as itâ€™s left to rung dry,
in other moments of it all,
finding that young hope,
to go all places and back,
that just canâ€™t be found,
not a daily moment,
that not even peace,
can fully control of the wonders,
that just go over the hills,
through the tunnels,
diving in the skies,
breaking grounds,
like a upcoming manic breeze,
that could only been seen as chance,
yet in the ugly truth,
that unsettles the belly beast,
that must be life,
swallowing away the easy and pipe dreams,
akin to that person who doubles everything,
and takes the longest in line,
eye rolling in thought,
but how else is there to say it,
without being too dramatic,
when thatâ€™s how life is,
throwing one thing,
wanting another to respond,
and going from there,
to only rest on after that it all,
just as it goes,
as an open flesh wound,
salted to a prime role in life,
stinging away of how that sweet caramel,
is just taken away,
and thatâ€™s how the growth just stops,
when the easy to treat,
is gone,
upon even seeing a flower wilt,
slowly drying away in a brittle way,
losing everything that made it shine to others,
resting that glass vase,
but sweet angel that could be life,
we know thatâ€™s only just a mask to everything else,
as with only leaving just a small being,
laying by the window,
dreaming through pipes,
and maybe going big,
unknowing of how life could be,
there is still a long way to go,
unknowing what is to come,
but at least one just savor the moment now,
before rushing in,
just as how life does it.