At precisely 8:33 , I'd watch you walk with a black backpack on your straightened back,
headphones crossing over your honey brown crew cut.
from my apartment window, 5 stories above the hustle bustle of Manhattan mornings,
and I'd wonder, where you go each day, with that backpack of yours that looks just like mine.
Until one random day, I stood by the window at 8:33 sharp, gulping down a cold glass of milk,
and there you stood,
headphone around your neck, backpack in your hand, staring up at the building with my window on it.
I wanted to flee. I wanted to see. I stood frozen,
as you walked straight up
the building that had my window on it,
and disappeared in it.
It was the last time I saw you.
At precisely 8:33
About the Creator
T. Licht
I have a love for words and a love to share them.
Enjoy! and thank you for taking the time to read this and maybe if you want subscribe and buy my new poetry book Whispers at Twilight
Standing While Falling
Quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche "He who wrestles long with monsters should beware lest he himself become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. Man is not destroyed by suffering, but by the meaning he makes of it."
By LUCCIAN LAYTH6 days ago in Critique
Comments (6)
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Oooo, this feel like a prologue to a story! Loved your poem!
Very well written!
Intriging!!! Loved it!!!❤️❤️💕
So I didn't understand did the stranger with the back pack live in your building? Did you ever see him again. Well written, it just kept me wondering.
Whoa, this gave me chills! The quiet buildup and that ending—so mysterious and intriguing. Now I’m over here wondering where they went and what it all meant. Such a cool, eerie vibe!