Going Nowhere, Arriving Late
Would you like to come with me
Going Nowhere, Arriving Late
I took the road.
It bent away.
It bent again.
It lost its name.
The hour was gone.
The train had passed.
The street was silent.
The lamp was dim.
I reached the square.
The faces gone.
The air was hollow.
The echo stayed.
I carried lateness.
It burned like ash.
It marked my steps.
It named my path.
Going nowhere.
Arriving late.
The door is locked.
The time is done.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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