He walked through the concrete maze,
Following a stray thread in his head,
Like a modern-day Theseus
with no minotaur to slay.
The alleyways, the space where
the bustling market used to be.
He wandered aimlessly
by the old pub with a gang of smokers
blocking the pathway.
Looking up for the first time in years.
He saw the beauty in the architecture,
the wonders that sat above us.
He saw the moon and it looked almost
like she was winking at him,
a trick of the light, must be.
His thoughts stirred like a whirlpool,
A tornado of words tumbled from
his silent tongue through his pen
and onto the page.
That face.
The face he has dreamed of for days,
why did he run away?
Why can’t he just be normal?
Why always so weird and uncomfortable?
He ambled on by the clock tower,
through the darker side of town,
to the station where time
always stopped still.
Where his mind stopped still.
The voices stopped
and silence filled his mind.
The same steel seat steals his thoughts
as he glances around, eyes up.
Sees so many faces,
but now they don’t bring fear,
just a slight disappointment
that hers isn’t here.
Billy jots down
line after line,
A cascading avalanche
of sublime words
that had been stuck behind
a wall in his mind.
And he smiled
for the first time in forever.
Not a fake smile to hide his anxiety
But a smile at what life could be.
To Be Continued
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