At the edge of the 

Apprehensive dark street,

Eyes often fail to meet

And in the moments 

When they fleetingly do,

The few tungsten lights 

Begin to constantly blink. 

 

The space for car parking 

Must've marked a lot of 

Departures and separation. 

Blur vision caused by droplets;

Rain isn't always the culprit,

But sometimes the eyes 

Well up and overflow too. 

 

"See you," she said, looking low,

I could feel the tension grow,

Her heart knew that it was a lie;

In the midst of one's want,

I witnessed another's die. 

 

A low, faint honk, not to alert me,

But I still wanted to pick up the cue 

And leave before he'd cry. 

 

I'm not the only one 

Bad at goodbyes.