Street With No Name

Here I am on a street with no name.
Where am I, where am I?
Is this some cruel game?
It’s starting to rain, the clouds overhead
Are as black as lead.
I start to walk, but don’t know where I’m going.
The street leads to nowhere, a street with no name.
Lost and alone on this cold dark street
The rain is wet beneath my feet.
A light in a window looks warm and inviting
I run to the window but the light goes out
Now I’m wondering what’s all this about.
Where am I, where am I?
On this street with no name.

by Barbara Stahly

Comments (2)

Pinks, Purples my touch my own colours that make me who i am colours that change like the wind and my age. As i change so does this place, it moulds like a shoe to my foot. That special place, where i feel safe, is my place. omg...its another fantastic poem done with very poetic and romantic way of logic... idea is good and the composition of wors and verses is interesting and the whole poem is meaningful enough..enjoyed it..and it shows that you are perfect in writing..so better to write more and more to win the hearts of readers.. best of luck..10/10
the real beauty of a being is best seen at home..free of paint and free of gels...nice Lines Kayla