Strange Meeting

I saw him leaving the local bar

Under the street light glare,

And something about the way he walked

Turned my head, to stare,

He shuffled off with his shoulders slumped

And he dragged his feet in the rain,

His aura under the lamp was black,

All it gave out was pain.

 

The street was strangely familiar,

I heard him mutter and curse,

I followed him at a walking pace

I hadn’t been there for years,

He paused in front of an iron gate,

And there, stood under a tree

Was the girl who’d broken my heart when I

Was barely twenty-three.

 

I held my breath for a moment there

My heart had skipped a beat,

I pushed down hard on my walking stick

And I stopped there, in the street,

She stared at him with a haughty smile

And she said, ‘I told you, No!’

Just as she’d said those words to me,

Fifty years ago.

 

He kicked the gate and he walked right in

Just as I’d done back then,

‘How can you say our love is lost,

Have you been with other men?’

I knew the answer would be the same

As she’d uttered long ago,

The words were burnt on my fevered brain,

‘I said, you have to go!’

 

‘Doesn’t it mean a thing to you,

How can you be so cruel?

Tell me the truth, I know his name

You treat me like a fool!’

‘My life has nothing to do with you

Those days are done and gone,

I’m looking out for my future now,

The past is past, and done!’

 

He shook his head and he backed away

The tears welled in his eyes,

‘I’ll always love you,’ I heard him say

And I thought, ‘that wasn’t wise!’

I should have walked with a jaunty air

But in youth, we show our pain,

Not keep it buried beneath the years

Like an ever spreading stain.

 

I faced him as he came out the gate,

‘Forget her son, that’s best,

Or she’ll keep running on back to you

And she’ll give you little rest.

Whenever her life is down, she’ll cry

Bemoan her petty fate,

Then go and marry a banker, but

For you, it’s much too late.’

 

He looked at me as he slammed the gate

And he pulled up, rather quick,

I vaguely remembered a man out there

A man with a walking stick,

He looked so old and he rambled, and

I listened impatiently,

And said, ‘What do you want, old man,

You’ve nothing to do with me!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[critic h]

thats a tragic piece of literature, perfectly written and brilliantly rhymed..

a captivating item that carries a hidden message as well. thats good.

the language is simple as it should have been.

yet i would prefer 99 rating to 100 as 100 will make you over confident....

i hope i will keep readings such poems more....

poems based on anecdotes..

hats off........

:-)))

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Good.story. enjoyed it.

[Lena M. P.]

Rejection hurts whether we are young or old. We carried it a lifetime and it haunts us. A tragic revisit of a past best forgotten.

[Valentine]

David, you lost me n this..is he the old man and he is reliving that old time in his maind or is he seeing someone else go through the pain that he dis years before"" Let me know.Katihe

[WingsToFly]

A very nice write. Nice imagery.

[Jack...]

What a B.... This was dark and gloomy yet I could still see the sun shining down on this escapade. Really good.

[Aya]

your style or ability to tell stories through poetry is rather very talented and experienced
very nice piece

[Adam Lebzo -RonninWarri..]

Well, I believe there is more in this tale than meets the eye
But as usual... flawless and profound!

[roarke]

ah, the voice from within, the spirit of youth and wanting...within the vessel of age and regret.
Sublime presentation Mr. Paget. Sublime.

[Marie]

Quinfin keeps making things personal, doesn't he. Some women are like that, but you had another point to your poem.

[quinfinn]

just my interpretation....

[quinfinn]

aha! so you met and dated denise as well!!!!!i wondered how many others she had strung along as such.excellent write! barracudas such as she will never have enough.....better to move on