SHOWER THOUGHTS

THE MEMORY



No one remembers as they walk by
And pass the bench, without casting an eye.
It looked just as any other bench in the park,
Rickety and old, nearly invisible in the dark.

But the bench remembers a bitter sweet tale
Of years ago that lingered on till then
Of the initials carved between the thin planks
And the doodled picture of a military tank.

The bench remembers that innocent laugh
Of a girl as she held her boy in her arms
It remembers the cheeky glint in his eyes
As he kissed her cheeks and waved her goodbye.

It remembers the stolen kisses at night,
The way they'd sometimes dive under to hide
It remembers the first time he confessed his love
And the girl's whispered reply as she cried in his arms.

It remembers the giggles, the fights and the tears,
The love that thrived in a time of fear.
And it remembers that horrid, grey skied day
When the boy fell on his knees, looked to the heavens and prayed

The splatter of blood had been cleaned long ago
But still haunted the bench and will forever more.
For that day when the guns boomed and everything was lost
Was a memory he'd remember as he stood there to rust.

***

-T.G.