A slotted afternoon, again
as I walk
through rain
downtown to the place where I once kissed
her eyelids, as she brushed my chin.
Down, to where people run, uncaring
without a thought of things that breathe,
things like love, and misery,
trees, and children,
all laughing at their play.
And I walk through the cut-out spot
into the office, where I'll lose myself
in work and work and work and shame,
much like the papers
stacked in their hungry waiting
for me to take the pen
and write out a lives' story
that I've never really known.
Then, nine and three-quarter hours later
back out through the hole
into more gray and slanting rain,
then home, back to where she once was
and I once loved
to be.
Author notes
When you write other people's stories to make a living, sometimes your life forgets to really be all that it should. When we lose the things that hold us strong, even stories lose their beauty.
Ah, what man was made to live in a place such as this! None, I fear, but here I must live until my life is moved on to a better, brighter plain....
thefallout
www.theeverlastingfallout.com
A contest entry
- 40 song titles. by etoile.
600 points, ended September 29, 2008, 35 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
this was amazing. i loved the emotions and imagery within this write. and i liked how you did the line spacing. it really added depth to this poem.
Then, nine and three-quarter hours later
back out through the hole
into more gray and slanting rain,
---
those lines are amazing. i loved them.
and the first stanza was amazing as well.
thanks for entering
Adding your comment:
