Between Abbey Street and The Point
- (📝Marcella Boccia) -
I ride the tram
through Dublin’s veins
clanging tracks
in my restless brain
Abbey Street fades
the city sighs
while I trace our memories
blackened skies
The cold glass
presses against my skin
as the lights blur
your face again
In the hum of wheels
I hear your name
a ghost
a fire
an endless flame
The Docklands
stretch like skeletal arms
with echoes of your laughter
your charms
But I am alone
just the rhythm and me
in a city that knows
but will never see
The Point looms ahead
like a shadowed truth
the distance between us
a fading youth
I think of you
of the nights we bled
of whispered words
of what was said
Beckett Locke
waits in the dead of night
a lonely room
but my mind takes flight
I taste your presence
in the neon glow
but you’re not here
and you won’t show
The tram jolts on
the city is gone
but your ghost still lingers
holding on
In the streets
in the glas
in the endless rain
I’ll carry your memory
my sweet pain