PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I was left hanging by own hands,

with no demand no one sits in the stands,

wish one dance i missed and didn't go,

days pile upon days where i have nothing to show,

yet one could know and chose the advice

of some mental thought telling you to leave me to my own device,

how nice of you to at least try to be friendly with me,

after you ruined the city for a man who loved the city,

but when i close my eyes for a second, so strange,

that it immediately feels as if nothing has changed,

no rules to keep toppling memories into action,

in darkness it's hard to feel like a fraction,

only a chord lost in the fingers of an old hand,

times heals all wounds yet the old hand can't understand

why when he closes his eyes it's as if all is as once was,

the walls kept falling in on the city he used to love.