You turn off the light.
(Remember me) in the night.
On a sunny day.
On a platform.
Cold wintery eve.
Broken wall of east and west
Separating present from past.
I write my poetry.
You write your story.
Life. Dreams. Glory.
Good times?
Bad times?
Perhaps confusing.
Each of them a lesson.
A joy.
A way to grow.
We all go through ups and downs.
We live our own stories.
Rewrite certain lines,
Yet abandon others.
Choices of our own will
Or the outside influence.
Victims of a circumstance...
