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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2006458
A persona poem
People and cars pass me by
While I sit on my red bench,
That is fading with time,
Just like me.
I stare at the broken windowed buildings
Around me.
I remember when they had been shining with prosperity
And hope.
Now they are falling apart
in this once
Shimmering city.
The sun is setting and
Are leaving the streets
And quickly running home,
But I cannot leave my red bench,
That is fading with time.
The sun is setting behind the buildings and
Making them shine
As if for just a moment
The old days have not gone.

A sigh escapes my lips
As the lights flick on.
Some buildings are still lighted.
Some street lamps still flutter on, while
Stay off for all eternity.

I sit on my once red bench alone.
My head spins.
For today is one of the many days
That I am haunted with.
I stare across the road
At the weed-covered
And car-less parking lot.
Ghosts of memories come hurtling to me
As I sit on my fading red bench.

My beautiful strawberry blond,
Stands by my carmine mustang
And beams up at me.
My eyes plead for a kiss
For this
Was our second date.
She must feel some remorse,
Because she stands on her tippy-toes
And gently touches her cherry lips to
I wrap my arms around her
And make her

The Ghosts fade away
And I am left alone on this red, but chipped bench.
A single tear falls
As I realize my rosy-cheeked beauty
Is gone.
I only have her memory
And a few meaningless possessions
Which she didn't need when
Made her escape
To the Great Unknown.
My Love.”
I whisper on this
Red bench.
© Copyright 2014 Carole Rae (carolerae at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2006458