Candle With A Flickering Faint Flame Poem by Uriah Hamilton

The sunlight is caressing bright red avenue roses
but I'm gloomy and preoccupied meditating
the many deaths we experience in life,
not just the funeral home and the cemetery,
but divorce, job loss, friends moving cross country
or simply abandoning a mutual history.


Most of the evening is a hazy blur of depression
more staggering than bottles of Johnny Walker Red,
memories more lethal than drug addiction or heart disease;
have you ever sat in a room of friends and refused to speak?
been next to someone but more distant than the freeway
from the middle of the ocean?

Sometimes we live like a dictionary of immense words
unable to form sentences or connect ideas,
sometimes we have to face failure
before efforts ever materialize,
but nothing hurts me more than to face mirrors
or the tears in a woman's eyes
when there is n nothing left to hope for.