Wandering lonely upon the concrete stairs,
They watch the solemn midnight air,
And do they gesture to join their way?
Indeed not and so it stays.
Walking beside the departed mess,
'Besides, he never liked us' they jest,
A rubble, a wasteland a creeping malaise,
Standing my ground tight as a tourniquet.
And so the stranglehold grows tight,
Mocking laughter shatters the night,
Listen, please listen, I hear myself cry,
Futile gestures falling awry.
I switch the swinging lamp bulb off,
Shaded not by the customary cloth,
Inside my mind, the same repeats,
A few lights short of a switchboard, methinks.
Eventually though this boy is lost,
The lights will dim; too great the cost,
Now we find that this is the end,
Fatality should this apprehend.
Author notes
A little rusty on the writing front, for which I apologise.
Comments
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Wow, isn't it a wonderful feeling when all your labors produce something so nice? You should be proud. I really enjoyed it. Usually I do not like rhyming poems as I seem they are too "forced" but your rhyming did not distract me at all, and I think it added a lot to it!
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I really like the flow of your words, thank you for entering the contest. Good luck in it
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