Hindsight embers
Your rose-colored memories
have faded away,
lost their luster,
and now the remnants
sit like ashes
waiting to be discarded.
Your rose-colored memories
have faded away,
lost their luster,
and now the remnants
sit like ashes
waiting to be discarded.
Fruity old city,
you know how to decorate
all the boring squares.
Oft loved by lovers,
an unsurprising landmark –
phallic centerpiece.
Life goes on –
through strife and sorrow,
floods and famine,
and hellish heat.
Life goes on –
through bitterness
and endless tears
which o’rflow the rivers.
Life goes on –
remember this
through wretched days
and haunting nights:
Life is persistent.
Life sustains.
Life does not give up.
Life remains,
and goes on.
A city rebuilt,
the fire of their bombs only
seemed to temper it.
This patchwork quilt city is composed
of buildings all lined up in rows,
though their stories are of different hues:
reds and browns and whites and blues.
And towering over the different peoples
are the restaurant roofs and church steeples
who compose an elegant skyline,
both jagged and yet quite sublime.
But woven through the very work
are the opinions, pride, and, yes, the quirks
of all the people who live here
who think it mad, yet hold it dear.
The city of peace,
bathed in the blood of martyrs,
and built on their bones.
Love is just a word,
but “loyalty”, “devotion”?
Those are so much more.
We danced in the rain,
and made love in the dark.
When we were done,
you broke down and cried.
You told me your secret,
and I loved you all the more.
Thank you for being my girl
even though I can never be yours.
A novel wonder,
the thrill of an unwrapped gift –
who knows what’s inside.