I used to know a Nightingale
sometimes she would sit on my windowsill and I'd imagine
shooting her dead
because her music reminded me
of who I once was
other times like today
I'd imagine she would sit there
just so I could hear her sing like in the old days.
-
Author:
Teddy.15 (
Offline) - Published: August 22nd, 2026 05:26
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Syd, Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: My Raven Collection.
Offline)
Comments6
Memories sometimes good sometimes bad but always a doorway to the past. Nicely written Teddy
Sometimes our emotions can be like an earthquake dear sorrenbarret depends on the strength of them. Thank you dear friend 🌹
You are most welcome Teddy have a wonderful day
Painful versions of our past can become something we desperately want to hold onto.
Or before they became painful we could maybe go back to, thank you so much for coming by here to say. 🌹
You are welcome. Yes, you are quite right: we may go back to before they became painful.
Hi Shirley, I suppose the things that once tormented us can become comforting over time. There's a lot packed into these lines.
- Syd xo
Thank you dearest Syd for your understanding and kindness. 🌹
What a powerful addition to your raven collection, Teddy. Grief first turns beauty into an enemy, then time transforms that same beauty into something desperately desired. Quiet, dark, and emotionally seismic...gorgeous work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Wow you get the soul of this my dear Tristan as you always do. You put it better in words than I ever could. 💜
memories may vary, but they still strike you at unexpected times, and evoke different reactions...
enjoyed the write
Here I'm not just speaking of memories but time, a time when I had my mother and father beside me. Thank you dearest NafisaSB 🌹
those are indeed precious memories - and they must be definitely happy and unforgettable - thanks for sharing..
Powerful work, sweet Teddy.
Thank you so much dear Thomas. 🌹 ❤️
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