Refuge in words.
Alone, I stand marooned in the emptiness of nowhere.
With words come color, resolution and momentary joy
When my hand brushes against the tail-end of a fleeting memory, just before it flutters away into he blue sky.
I speak of them, of their memories.
They asked me to remember them when I came back,
Not to forget their names, faces or stories.
The sadness and sweetness mingled in the pictures that leant against his wall.
The soft colors spoke of his dreams and memories
Before he crossed over to that new place.
He'd thought he was moving on to bigger and better
Yet there he was in another nation,
But still on the same side of the railway track.
A traveller and story-teller
Looking for a way out.
Sadness in his eyes
And memories of the cyclical violence.
This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 Unported License. Please feel free to use my writing for non-commercial purposes and do credit my name (Rose Kahendi) as the writer.