Ash tray

May your soul rest in peace, uncle.

What a heart grabbing poem this is!

Meme has elegantly written a poem about love, and loss. Her metaphoric design along with a simplistic tone paints a a visual picture in my head. I can see the man standing on the balcony, staring into space, smoking.

The message I get is possibly an out cast perhaps and the secret fondness of the author to this person. The worry of losing this person and also a hidden message of how much this person means to the author. I am not really good at picking poems apart and normally I don't, however this poem touched me so deeply that I had to express how much this poem meant to me.

Powerfully written, with a flow that was delightful to read.

Its just astounding...well written!! 5/5

Excellent written girl, well done

The only sign of him being
alive are the ashes dusted
on that tray he always leaves
outside his door only because
he was told that smoking is
forbidden inside these walls.

- nice opening, the scene is very short and clear, we can picture this man by the doorway, smoking and flicking the ash into the ash tray.

Everyday I cross his way
never taking a second look
to recognize the features of
his face. Or even to see how
the years have added new
strokes to the skin that keeps
holding what's left of his bones.

- I think this is quite a deep stanza, the way you put you never look at anything else, just the way he is always smoking. I think it shows that he is perhaps feeling really depressed and trapped in this point in his life, and people will look past this and only focus on the fact he is always out there smoking in his little routine. There is a bit of a mystery about the relationship between the writer here and the man himself.

Sometimes when the silence of
the night falls upon his already
shadowed eyes, I pray for my
ears to be deafened for I can't
listen to the humming melodies
of his loneliness.

- I sense here that the person has caught your care for some reason, whether it is you know them, or just that you feel sorry for the way they are living. You described the loneliness well here, and the silence. And how even at night, this man crosses your mind and you think of him.

He continues to live, but closer
he is actually dying alive. Slowly
fading with every uneven breath.
And I still pass by his door, still
look out for that ash tray, afraid
that one day I would find it empty
and realize that he is gone...

- I suppose this is the way of life, sometimes we see things, and there is nothing we can do to change them, but then when they are no longer here, we feel regret and sorrow that we did not change the things we might have wanted to.

It reminds me of an alcoholic drinking, and everyone always quick to judge, abandon, etc, but never help. Then when they are gone, they might say it is a shame that no one offered them help or comforted them etc.

I like the message of the poem, in that it can show someone can affect us in the most smallest of ways, a stranger even, or someone we have come to know on our path.

Nice work Meme.