The Broken Memories

"The Broken memories"

I once perambulated these pavements,
With lusts to be with you someday.
Those clouds and the falling rain,
would accord me with all the flairs.




For this day,
The cloudburst once again.
Anew is the downpour.
Though, this time
It falls with a mourn,
No tip-tap but with trish-trash
It hits the ground.
To show the incense,
Of it was wrong about the flairs.




The same passage ways I traverse,
The gale, all the same,
As it twins,
Up to my ears.




And this season it traces
A tale of the broken memories.
Of what they flared about,
Are no more.
I walk alone,
the broken memories along.