The certain age
That drinks there
Broken people
Dreams all gone
While light rain
Caresses windows glass
Outside streetlights
Splutter on.
The music it is dated
Decades walk on by
Certain songs remind
With a tear in the eye
Nagging doubts so loud
You cannot hear them at all
A distant stare to the past
Memories to recall.
Soon it is
An empty room
The faces gone
But still the gloom
Another day
One more night
Stack the chairs
Cigarette to light.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: September 4th, 2026 03:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 42
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments5
There is a rocking meter that with the rhyme provides a bit of melancholy to this poem and a sense of resignation in the wording finishes it well.
thanks and appreciation for read
My pleasure Norman
Good write N. So you're halfway to town? Which bus did you get? lol.
the no 4 took me 3 miles forward then 2 back so I jumped on the no 6 which strangely brought me back to the no 7 bus stop, still waiting lol
It leaves a taste a chamomile and old lace ...
those waiting to die aimlessly filling time, thanks for read appreciated
Takes me back to such wonderful time of my past Norman.
Andy
thanking you you and much appreciated read
What a haunting piece, Norman. The whole room feels saturated with lives that have passed through it…old songs, fading memories, empty chairs, and that quiet heaviness left behind when the night is over. One heck of a poem, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
thanking you, very much appreciated friend
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