September 22, 2009
By Red-Cross SILVER, Boise, Idaho
Red-Cross SILVER, Boise, Idaho
7 articles 0 photos 2 comments

I’m only standing here
The wind, my wind, and I
Standing in the port
Of my flight to the moment
In my flight to her

I’m only standing here
The lights flashing past my eyes
As we, the cargo are shaken
Upon the rickety tracks
Of the 9 o’clock train
The 9 o’clock train to my love

I’m only standing here
The bustle of commute to my right
And the slams of builders to my right
In my hand there is a locket
Crafted in perfection
My locket
Her locket

I’m only standing here
Casting off the anchors
Raising the sails, and venturing the horizon
I run my hand through the sea as I think of her
Its blue glisten quite so beautiful
Sharp beautiful blue
That perfect match of hers

I’m only standing here
Gazing into the lights
Millions of miles, afar
Watching the moon glide through
The subtle evening sky
An ivory skin, pebbled perfectly
So as the romance of her freckles

I’m only standing here
I’m only just a man
Just one among the masses
I write with my hands
And sail my soul
I fly with my eyes
And ride on the train
But if anything I must do
So very essential
I must go home
And I must love her

The author's comments:
This poem was written before I exited a relationship with a girl named Anika. I find the piece to be valid.

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