What was your name?
Who were you?
I stumbled upon your living memory,
placed carefully on Battersea Bridge.
I stopped for a moment,
wondering whether you were young,
old or somewhere in between
and what you meant to Battersea Bridge
or the surrounding areas.
Did you ever stop at night,
to observe the beauty of the Albert?
Or were you a passerby of another area
and love for you spans London?
My image of you...
is a person in love with life
and despite your end...
you would wish others to continue to love living theirs.
I imagine you as someone so important,
only a select few knew of your special contribution to your community.
And it is those select few,
who would have known how you may have felt during the moment...
the moment which changed the lives of those closest to you.
You are not forgotten...
So what is your name?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. Such a nice poem, Jeremy H. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks