ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Books, Literature, and Writing»
  • Poems & Poetry

When a street lamp loves

Updated on February 14, 2016

A light with feelings

It’s 3 am, its dark, and quiet, listen,

The street is speaking with the lights outside,

They’re talking calmly without masking,

And linger on aware that nobody is coming.

Thou sadness comes with every word,

Thou life is running scarred with patience,

They have no special care for knowledge,

Alone, its dark they’re drunk with kindness.

Although the curious moon is listening,

They aren’t shy, they talk with trust,

About the steps of people walking,

They are best friends, they have no secrets.

“Today was hard; I’m hurting, crying,

I washed the tears of peoples passing,

They were a lot, with no regrets,

They stomped with rage with every step.”

“I know your pain, my night was dreadful,

Alone and scared I’ve watched how they,

In nowhere time showing their blindness,

Killed my love with bricks and branches”.

“And how I cried, and how I tried,

To save my love, to cleanse her light,

But buried deep I had no chance,

For they were gone, my heart has stopped.”

“Now here and now, my dear sweet friend,

I pledge that I’ll leave, I have no sorry,

For I’ve been their sun in every night,

With no regret they brooked my light.”

“Good-bye my other me, I’ll miss you dearly,

I lack the eyes to shed a Nile of memories,

You gave me vision in total darkness,

You were my light, when I was hiding.”

In the sun’s rising grave chilling rays,

They parted ways in shaking silence,

To never speak to keep craving away,

Good morning now shadow waits.


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • profile image

      Vincent Moore 7 years ago

      I've often wondered how an object can portray feelings, you showed it well here with the night and street lights. It showed warmth and passion for the people who pass there under and leave their whispers and characters impressions on the objects they may be passing under. Well done, nicely weaved. Voted UP