Traffic Lights
There is a certain
Kind of feeling which cannot be
Explained—
Like the feeling when it rains, or
When someone you love
Dies—one which goes
Beyond words, beyond expression.
Feelings which can
Only be understood
In the rain
After death.
These are the feelings
Which will move
A person
To sit in the abandoned
Lobby of a library,
Sad music pumping through
Their headphones. She waits
As the time ticks by,
Closer. And closer.
And closer.
To the end. Through a
Window she watches
The traffic lights
Change
From red to green
To yellow to red.
Mechanical movements
Continue, even as
Her heart has stopped.
Everything around her
Fades but those lights.
Green. Yellow. Red.
Stop.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.