My Poetry: Driftwood

Driftwood

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Mist falls like bricks
over the rotten city rooftops.
I follow my feet
through the new scenes
thinking of a nameless girl,
her features obscured
as if in a dream;
for a while I called her princess
she was pretty,
full of light and shade,
holding onto my arm
like a sailor
falling overboard.
But tonight, I drift
where the warm summer
breeze pushes me
like a splintered piece
of an old wreck
waiting for shore.

I’m the same
as when we met,
I took nothing
but her body
and time,
I don’t blame her,
it's all she had,
her sail set
against my tide
leaving me with just a
phone snap shot
leaving me a little a sadder
a little older
but just the same.
So I wander, rudderless
through the sea mist
which hangs low
smothering the desolate
city streets
which hangs low,
over the shoulders
of the lost and hunted souls.
But I am neither
tonight,
so I wander.