Raven came, he came to me
most strange of times of times you see
I met my fate on a London street
a street my memory holds and keeps
I never saw the moment in hand
it passed like lightning
fell through like sand
I lost a lot that day, I did
yet Raven came to sit with me
now I ponder on past and think
how funny tis to learn such things
and as I stand to read these lines
I realize sometimes life’s unkind.
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Author:
Teddy.15 (
Offline) - Published: January 12th, 2026 04:55
- Comment from author about the poem: From my Raven collection
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange, Thomas W Case
Offline)
Comments4
Teddy this seems a poem of loss and the realization that life is not always peaches and cream. Sad it begs for tears
Exactly my dear sorrenbarret, sorry I'm away so much, I am trying to get back into my work mode will be back later dear friend to read. 🌹 Thank you my dear friend.
Most welcome my friend
Dearest Teddy, this feels like grief processed gently rather than explained. The raven sits, time moves, memory holds…and the poem lets that be enough. Wonderful restraint. Well done! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
I love your interpretation dear Tristan, thank you so much, some memories we just can't shake, living far from home makes it easier to remember once I'm back on the cobbles, in this case bad memories, but they weren't always such. 🌹
I hear you, deeply, dearest Teddy and there is much wisdom in what you say. Indeed. You are most welcome, my friend. I hope all is well!
That Raven will always be there to look after you Teddy.
Andy
I love my Raven dear Andy, thank you dear friend. 🌹
Teddy, There’s a quiet ache in this, the way loss and visitation share the same breath. Raven feels less like an omen and more like a witness, staying when everything else has already passed through your hands.
Awe your review gave me goosebumps, yes I was 24 when my older brother died whilst on holiday, in 1988 and my mother well she never recovered and died of a heart condition in 2012. And then all the In betweens like having a rubbish dad. Thank you my dear Thomas. 💜
Tou are welcome.
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