Yellow Streetlamp

            Beneath a yellow streetlamp I heard an angel say “I’m sorry”, but I didn’t listen to what she has to say. I loved her, yet I didn’t love her, for it makes her human to me.

And with it the realization that she was real.

Real as the pain I feel right now.

Beneath the same yellow streetlamp I tried to remember. As thoughts raged inside my mind, the slow passage of time even more slowly takes the pain away.

And with the pain goes the memory.

The memory of her.

Beneath this yellow streetlamp I write. The drizzle has turned into a torrent, but still I write. I write lest the passage of time make me forget; I write so I could forget.

Reviews

[Rohan]

WOW!! I am in a lack of words. This is truly an amazing piece. It is amazing to know how you can convey so much meanind through such a small piece.

[Pookie]

Wonderful...So full of love yet not love...and pain. And sorrow Maybe a litte bit of lonleyness?

[ICE]

Amazing....