Eighteen stories high,
And across my field of vision,
I see a blinking red light.
Though it blinks throughout the day,
It only catches my attention at night.
The world is dark then,
So it illuminates the sky.
To me they’re more than red flashes,
They hold importance in life.
Again, its at night,
When I make it back home
And glance at the world outside,
that this blinking red light reminds me
Of how I survived another day.
That I am still alive.
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 2:31 PM UTC
Eighteen stories high,
And across my field of vision,
I see a blinking red light.
Though it blinks throughout the day,
It only catches my attention at night.
The world is dark then,
So it illuminates the sky.
To me they’re more than red flashes,
They hold importance in life.
Again, its at night,
When I make it back home
And glance at the world outside,
that this blinking red light reminds me
Of how I survived another day.
That I am still alive.
Written on September 20th, 2010.
From the window of my dorm room, you can see a tower that flashes a red light every other second. Its rather nice to stare at while trying to fall asleep.
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