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Concrete Story

On the highway I'm a traveler

stuck between the earth and the sky.

Green signs to my right slowly tick the miles by.

 

It's been a long time since I've last seen you.

You were the best friend I had,

A true one through and through.

 

But then one night you reached out

and cried for help,

But I wasn’t there.

You were completely by yourself.

 

I should've seen the signs coming, they were everywhere.

No food, no sleep, falling hair.

They say it's something that must destroy to survive.

One of the simplest, but most terrifying alibis.

 

As I approach the exit, I shed a tear.

I can’t think of a life without you near.

I start to signal and I move to the right.

I take the exit, my destination in sight.

 

I approach the gates and they open wide for me.

Time to let it go, time to finally be free.

You don't know what you have

until you're at the bottom of the pit,

utter blackness surrounds you

and your fate you must commit

to the seemingly miniscule sliver of hope that life goes on.

 

I walk through the grass-paved rows

until I find your name.

All these stories etched in concrete,

none of them the same.

 

I find your story on its own underneath a tree.

I say some words, drop some flowers,

and pray that you are free.

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Written by
aw-davis
American
Published
Dec 1, 2012
Lines·Words
32·234
Permission

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