The past you imagined was all lies, lies, lies

Don’t open your eyes Try not to see Things are no longer Where things ought to be That voice—is it her? Behind a closed door She calls you a stranger Your mother no more Breathe through the moment Turn, turn your eyes The past you imagined Was all lies, lies, lies Things are no longer Where things ought to be Who is this stranger Is it still me? ★ Inspired by poetry? Treat yourself a gift ★ Home FREE Google Play ★ Smashwords ★ Kobo Paperback ★ Hardcover  Audiobook "the book overflows with some of the most eloquent poetic moments in print"