discarded notes: 2

to write my poems
means going on a journey
that’s mine and mine alone
even if it’s just for that moment
when i put pen to paper,
my feelings raw
and my heart cut open
only because it’s easier
to bleed on the page
than it is to say the words
i really want to say
to you.

little journeys

little journeys here and there
that’s where your love has taken me
secrets long hidden now exposed
revealing little truths I didn’t see

that i’ll always be beautiful in your eyes
and maybe one day i’ll see it in mine
until then i’ll hear you whisper the words in my ear
till each discovery will ring true in time


Let’s take a journey,
just you and me
I don’t know where we’re going
let’s just wait and see

Maybe a trip to nowhere,
or wherever our fingers land
on this map in front of us,
will we walk on cobblestones or powder-fine sand?

Will we run with the bulls in Pamplona,
laughing the entire way?
Will we make our way to the plaza,
happy to live another day?

Will we drink wine in Tuscany
and even quote the works of Shakespeare?
Will we dance till midnight to the strains of music
that only you and I can hear?

So let’s take a journey,
just you and me,
maybe even deep inside ourselves
and set ourselves free.

File Jul 13, 8 59 45 AM

©Photos by Paul D. Durano

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via Journey — The Daily Post