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an angel, a ghost.
by Andrew S Adamswith an angels grace,
the wind whispers like a ghost;
the silent raindrops gently kiss
the empty sidewalks;
the air is thick as
the fireflies seek out shelter-
their refuge illuminates the city streets
in the midst of a great awakening;
but we are locked indoors-
our windows our only means
to witness what may lay ahead;
and yet, staring through the glass
we choose instead to lament
the last moments of a life
we've left behind;
like a wasted night of endless possibility,
our fears will come to be our every regret. 06/12/2008 Posted on 06/12/2008
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 06/13/08 at 11:05 AM I had to read this over and over again and upon every read I liked it a little bit more. It's so thought provoking. I simply love it. |
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