4 AM

The city hums, yet I stand alone,  

A stranger lost in streets unknown.  

Faces pass, but none see me,  

Drifting, fading, silently.  

The neon flickers, cold and blue,  

Like ghosts of things I never knew.  

I watch my past in windowed glass,  

A life I lived, a time that passed.  

Regrets like echoes call my name,  

Soft and distant, yet the same.  

If I could reach, if I could bend,  

Would time be kind? Would it amend?  

The night moves on, untouched, unshaken,  

While I stand still—lost, forsaken.  

4 AM, a cruel space,  

Between my past and what I chase.