I walk through river mist
Remembering the feelings when we kissed,
Too many days forlorn in a foggy past,
Abandoned and tossed away.
Churchyard cemetery with broken gates,
Certain circumstances simply refuse to wait
But I’ve scraped myself through corridors
Of the destitute and the abhorred.
The things about you that I once adored
Decay like relics in ancient tombs,
I’m a sealed-off crime scene with empty rooms,
I’m a dusty bottle of wine two-thirds used.
I’m a melancholy ghost terribly obtuse
But I’m slowly learning not to insist
On keeping the old memories impossible to relive,
Slowly making it to the grave and learning to forgive.
True poetry always has the power to move the reader. Very eloquent write. Regards, Sandra
What a sadly beautiful Poem, Uriah...Finely structured...refined language...this, my friend is Solid Literary work.... '''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''{F J R}
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, Uriah, this is a most eloquent write. It melts into itself so well, flows along and kindles a deep stirring feeling in one's soul. Expressed with such ambience. Just a beautiful creation. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX