Drumsticks of a (once) Sunny Day

Why missing you is a crime I'm silently commiting... 
and committing it alone?

Like memories that are nothing but nice clouds in the sky,
dissolving into a rain
that doesn't refresh the ground
but only stains it with blood and tears.

A hope for days of a future long past;
Illusion of fortunate laughs,
and sunny beats...

A hug from the universe
and a bass of all the
highbars under our feet.

The everything once ours,
but which is now just
wishful hopes, long lasting dreams;
Reality tossing memories,
like shards of 
broken drumsticks
in a bottomless, sour bitter sea. 
 
;