I walk on the rubble <br />Hard city concrete <br />Amid spaced-apart <br />Solitary trees <br />In the sad, grey afternoon <br />Autumn rain, <br />My shoes are weary and worn <br />Going down the ancient avenues <br />Where I paced myself <br />Broken-hearted a hundred times before. <br /> <br />I’m hungry for love and hope, <br />But live on the pointless stale bread <br />Of defeated, lingering memories <br />And impossible dreams that resurface <br />With cackling voices of mockery. <br />If my special friend could find me today, <br />She would weep in a flowerless place <br />For what has become of me.<br /><br />Uriah Hamilton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/weep-in-a-flowerless-place/
