A Visit At Creekside Street Poem by Vladimir Ashkov

As I was passing by an old street of the past,
A junk emotion suddenly arose from within.
And things from yesterday kept rolling in my mind,
Recalling the pain and reminiscing the acts,
Nothing was good I thought.
I felt uneasy and severely moved.
I saw remnants of memories scattered all over,
Sound of laughter heard everywhere,
Voices of struggles and echoes of vengeance,
Until I figured out,
A song of lost friendship was starting to play its ruined melody…

I was running out of fine words to speak,
Every step was a torture,
Every move was a therapy,
Silence made its way to dominate the walk.
A broken line was starting to sound new,
Victories were recalled in order,
Failures were given honor in the talk.
It was a little late when I realized,
I couldn’t find the missing line of the broken piece…

It was so hard to see those walls who witnessed the fights,
A load of wasted anger came into memory,
The pathway was shadowed with resentments,
And conversations shrank in silence.
It was tougher than I thought.
The doubts were removed from the grave,
And glorious moments were filling the air,
Finally my senses made me think,
How could I put back the notes and play the broken piece?
When I forgot the rhythm?

Finally I figured out…

That it was the end of the music of an old brotherhood…
So I went away.
And never came back…

-Amen-