I walk on the rubble
Hard city concrete
Amid spaced-apart
Solitary trees
In the sad, grey afternoon
Autumn rain,
My shoes are weary and worn
Going down the ancient avenues
Where I paced myself
Broken-hearted a hundred times before.
I’m hungry for love and hope,
But live on the pointless stale bread
Of defeated, lingering memories
And impossible dreams that resurface
With cackling voices of mockery.
If my special friend could find me today,
She would weep in a flowerless place
For what has become of me.
I'll send you a big HUG Uriah, for I read this and felt very sad for you. A lovely write and a lovely read. Very moving. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh to weep in a flowerless place...despair and sadness you know so well...you are so special, such an excellent poet Dont let the darkness keep you Pia