Stones that forgot our footsteps
Even the ground forgets who we were
The road knew
us once
It felt
our soles
our weight
our hesitation
But it forgets
Wind smoothed
the prints
we left
in hurried steps
Rain
washed our breath
from its dust
Trees that watched
now stand
without memory
We walked
for years
thinking we mattered
to the dirt
We didn’t
Even the stones
don’t remember
our names
So we walk
again
alone
unmarked
and unseen
Thinking maybe
the next step
will stay longer
than the last
About the Creator
Hazrat Usman Usman
Hazrat Usman
A lover of technology and Books
Keep reading
More stories from Hazrat Usman Usman and writers in Poets and other communities.
Getting Serious About Comedy (Part I)
If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
By John Oliver Smith4 days ago in Humor
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.