Out Of The Blue.

She walked down the familiar street back home,
alone,
she never was, you see,
there was always at least a person,
or a friend,
or maybe sometimes a possum,
trailing along, following her back home.

She insisted to be alone,
on that dark winter night,
the breeze was cold,
her hands were numb.

She instinctively placed one in her jeans pocket,
and the other holding a half-lit cigarette.
and when it was warm again,
she took it out to feel the chilling breeze again.

Thoughts running through her mind,
reminiscing the past she left behind,
those hands,
were numb again,
then little droplets of rain,
started falling on her face.

With a hobo in the middle of the gardens,
playing his old and probably meaningful radio,
singing out of tune,
distracting her from her thoughts.

She stared at him,
he looked back,
she walked away.

She would like to think that it was,
someone up there,
somewhere,
telling her to wipe those thoughts away.

To not take what she has now for granted.

She never felt any better,
that walk,
though only lasted for 15 minutes,
was the most refreshing and awakening walk she ever had,
since the time,
she lost a friend.

so beautiful, yet abandoned and unwanted

Just because I felt like being creative.