Opinion of my writing please?

its not rly a poem. its kind of a story, only missing some major contents that a story usually contains. its a memoir. a short memoir. tell me what you think.





We drove him home most nights. Over the hill, down to the market. Turn right and then up some more. And he'd be there, seated next to me, hands clasped so tight. Fingers finding their way across each others skin. Up. Up. Up. The big gray wall marks home. Walk him to his door for one last kiss, there would always be more...so i thought. In the car, back down the hill, you will catch a glimpse of the city; lit up in the darkness. This passing glance was all i needed to believe...believe in love.





I took that road again today. Over the hill, down to the market. But, no longer do i turn right and then up some more. No longer is he seated next to me, hands clasped so tight. If i turn my head to look, i find an empty seat. Fingers searching, longing for his touch. Gray wall no longer. Last kiss no longer. No longer. And no longer do i catch that glimpse of light, that passing glance of love.





It was always a short trip when he was there, seated next to me, hands clasped so tight. But today, as i find myself alone, up over the hill, over the hill, over the hill, down to the market. I find that time drags on...as it always will.|||it sounds more like a poem to me. but it is a very good poem. try using more adj. it would pull the reader in a little more.





-good luck!|||very nice written! if you need some input, I would suggest to have more adjectives that will spice up the story.