The face in the crowd
Walking through time
The church on the hill
That day
Etched forever in silent loathing
No word, no reason, long gone
Fifteen years
The face, older
In the crowd
She wanted to scream at him
Just say something
She began to follow him
Watching as he walked into the graveyard
Stopping beside the solitary grave
Touching the headstone
Finally disappearing
She approached the grave
Reading the inscription on it
The name stood out
She kept staring at it
Recoiling in disbelief
The name and date
Fifteen years ago
The wedding day
It didn’t make sense
She began to study the name
Touching the engraving just to make sure
Looking around, searching for him
Her head spinning
Nothing made sense
Finally falling to her knees
The face in the crowd
The face in the crowd
Walking through time.
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 19th, 2026 06:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments3
This hits hard, a poem of sorrow. Your poem articulates the struggles of moving forward while being haunted by memories, highlighting the enduring impact of love and loss.
Love and death, the endless struggle of life.
A haunting story well told. Loved it
Was a bit haunting.
Paul, this unfolds like a quiet psychological thriller…measured, restrained, and deeply unsettling. It’s emotional, eerie, and grounded all at once. Strong, evocative piece. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️
Short and sweet the way I like them.
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