Skip to main content

Echoes

Echoes
Now I am well and recovered from illness
I see what I have lost, life has moved on for others
I see echoes of what might have been,
What I used to be, look like and what I am now.

I feel grief, pain and suffering,
I feel the emptiness, confusion and instability.
I feel echoes of what might have been,
What I used to be, look like and what I am now.

I was on a road that swerved and crashed
I was going somewhere and now I am lost
I was and now I am an echo of the past
What I used to be, look like and what I am now.

I cannot go back; the road is no longer there
I cannot be who I used to be, that person is no longer there
I cannot let the echo of the past define me.
I am a different person, on a different road, in a different reality.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Cello

https://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/vittorio-zamboni-467151.jpg It taunts me as I look at it, where I left it last, in the spare room. It is saying play me, but how can I play? My lost limb is no longer there, taken by the crash, smash of the driver who claims he didn't see me coming. 'Wow you were amazing'. 'You are going to go far with your talent'. 'Next upcoming Cello player Jessica Kimyani'. These were the past phrases, the reviews I used to receive in my concerts. I was approached to play at the Royal Opera House. But the accident took that away like a thief stealing precious momento's from the house. The pink ribbon, lush and full of life, raps itself around the Cello like a snake, whilst I broken, tattered and worn stand in it's glow. 'I'm sorry, but we have to cut the arm off' said the Physician. 'But my arm, it is necessary?' 'Yes I'm sorry Miss Kimyani, but the arm has e...

Letters of the Past

The letters in his hand were crisp, clean, and pure white and had the age of youth while Sebastian's hands were wrinkled, old and worn out. He smelt the perfume of the letters which were like flowers in the room showing down onto him. He rocked slowly as he held them and whispered 'Lillian' while Beatrice didn't budge and had gone to sleep purring away in his lap.  As the light glistened in the fireplace the colours were reflecting onto the walls of the living room like colours of the rainbow as he thought of Lillian and the past. It was at university where he had met her first, he was himself lost in the corridors, with his shirt half tucked into his trousers, tie askew and hair rough and looking at the board trying to find his class. He heard her voice, 'excuse me' and turned towards her. It was her golden hair that struck him. It shone in the corridor like a gem and it was long. She looked as though she were a mermaid emerging from the sea. He could feel...

Christmas Wish

Frost was glistening like jewels shining as though it was worth a million pounds. The wind was whistling like a naughty child intermittently. Figures of people hustled around to gather Christmas presents last minute. Their faces were full joy like sunshine because of the air of Christmas was approaching. Kids unable to sleep, counting the hours and pacing within houses. Chestnuts were roasting on the open fires, turkeys defrosting and stockings being laid out in anticipation for Santa’s arrival.      Christina was inside near the warmth of the fire which glowed red and arose like a phoenix from the ashes as it burned warming her up. She was eagerly waiting for Peter’s call. The phone rang like the jingle of bells and her heart started to beat faster. “Hello I miss you” he expressed. “So do I. Been waiting for your call all day, are you going to come back for Christmas Day?” she asked. “I hope so... Works been crazy”. He soun...